


Boy Interrupted

by MrsStylinson



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Awkward Louis, Both of them crushing hard, Bottom Louis, Flirting, Fluff and Smut, Harry finds out the hard way that Louis likes to suck on lollipops while fingering himself, Harry is a musician, Harry teaching Louis how to cook, Harry teaching Louis yoga, Harry walking in on Louis in all manner of compromising positions, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, Louis in a cropped hoodie, Louis is a nurse, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Nicknames, Pining, Shy Harry, Weekend roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-03
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-01-28 22:10:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12616648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsStylinson/pseuds/MrsStylinson
Summary: Five times that Harry walks in on Louis by accident and the one time he walks in on purpose.Or, the one where they can only resist each other for so long, featuring some epic sexual tension, a heavy dose of pining, a hint of angst and a fluffy ending.





	1. Meet Cute

The first time he meets Harry, Louis’ got a cherry flavoured lollipop in his mouth and two fingers up his arse. The lollipop is not a good idea, to be honest. He’s almost bitten it in half trying to reach his prostate.

‘Oh my god. I’m so sorry. Are you actually—oh, oh, you are.’ The first words out of Harry’s mouth are said so quickly, and with very little breath in between. Louis kind of wants to shove said lollipop inside Harry’s mouth, just to shut him up. The boy’s lovely green eyes do their best to flee, but seem pinned to Louis’ open legs. ‘Flexible wrist, hey?’

The boy immediately blinks his soft, jade eyes closed, as if he can’t believe what he’s just said. ‘Oh god, I’m such a dickhead. Ignore me. Please.’

His accent is the kind of posh Louis would usually love to make fun of, but his voice is deep, deep baritone. Not to mention, he’s got a body made for high def porn.

‘Bit difficult, that.’ Louis laughs. ‘You’ve kind of caught me at a bad time.’

He doesn’t mention that it’s physically impossible to ignore someone with jeans that tight. The boy in front of him has dark, shiny hair, pushed up and away from his face. The image is softened by darling little curls which trickle down around the curves of his cheeks. His thighs are thick with muscle and his hips have just the barest hint of soft; the beginnings of love handles, left unfinished.

‘I am, in fact, the worst human being that’s ever existed.’ The boy massages his grimace away with hands so large, they could easily swallow Louis’ wrists. Or hold them down against a mattress. Admittedly, this isn’t something Louis needs to be thinking about when he’s got two fingers thrusting up inside his arse, both nudging his prostate.

‘You must be Harry.’ He says and withdraws said fingers. Slick with lube, they make a loud, squelching noise that echoes around the room. Louis’ cheeks feel warm and tingly. He diverts his eyes, struggling to maintain composure. ‘Zayn told me you were coming.’

‘Um, yes. I, um—came.’ Louis’ hole throbs weakly at the thought. Though at least, Harry seems equally uncomfortable. Shifting from foot to foot, he seems unsure whether to make a break for it while he still can. ‘I’m visiting my sister for the weekend. Zayn told me I could stay.’

‘Oh, by all means.’ Louis always manages to come across like the world’s most sarcastic asshole, even when he doesn’t mean to. ‘Mi casa es su casa.’

Harry gives him a funny look. A look that says ‘I’m not sure what you’ve done with all the bodies but I know they’re here somewhere.’

Fucking fantastic.

‘Sorry about all this, mate.’ Louis pulls the covers up over his nakedness, figuring that the boy has probably seen enough. He tosses the bitten down lollipop into the bin beside his bed. ‘Zayn told me you wouldn’t make it up here till tomorrow morning.’

‘Oh god, that’s right.’ Harry shakes his head at himself, snapping his fingers.

Louis can’t decide if it’s painfully embarrassing or just plain adorable. He can’t stop staring at the boy’s fingers either. They’re twice the length of his own; long enough to circle around his prostate and make it back.

‘I’m so sorry.’ Harry says, charmingly anguished. ‘This is all my fault. Like I said, worst person ever.’ He jabs his thumb into his own chest. It’s undeniable now. He must be one of the cutest people Louis has ever had the pleasure of meeting.

‘Look, it’s fine. I’m actually glad you’re here.’ He smiles shyly, wondering if it’s bringing his cheekbones into sharper focus. He’s not really sure that people as drop dead gorgeous as Harry even notice such things. Particularly because the boy’s face is completely symmetrical. His skin is the colour of the foam Louis scoops off Liam’s coffee in the mornings, sucking it straight off his own index finger while making direct eye contact. It never fails to disturb Liam and make someone in the near vicinity hard. Louis wouldn’t mind sucking it off Harry’s fingers instead, if he’s being honest.

‘You’re glad?’ Harry’s giving him that look again. The you’re-harbouring-dead-bodies-in-the-basement look. They don’t actually have a basement. It’s a two bedroom flat with very little in the way of storage space. However, if they did, Louis’ quite certain Harry would be down there right now, shining a torch into their dark corners and looking for severed heads.

‘You’re happy I walked in on you...fingering yourself?’ He blushes adorably at the use of a dirty word, and what Louis wouldn’t give to explore that a little more. If only he wasn’t about to hit the peak of humiliation which, he might add, is higher than the peak of Everest.

‘Oh god, no!’ Louis shakes his head violently, wondering if it might pop off. ‘I meant here,’ he waves his hands around, manic. ‘As in our flat!’

Harry winces and takes a step back. ‘This is a train wreck and a half. I’ll just leave you to your—um—arse.’ He flinches again, like the words aren’t his own, contemplating trauma counselling, perhaps?

‘No! Wait.’ Louis rears up from the bed dramatically, his clean hand outstretched. ‘Mate, I haven’t even had a chance to introduce myself. Just come over here and shake my hand.’

Harry hesitates, looking like he’s about to come out of his skin. Louis follows the alarmed look right down to his own duvet. Somehow, without his noticing, it’s fallen away to reveal his half hard cock, now staring poor Harry directly in the face. Down boy, Louis thinks. It’s a phrase he never thought he’d have to use in connection with his cock.

Harry’s blush has now reached epic new heights. He’s the colour of the brightest pair of jeans Louis wore throughout his twink phase.

Fuck it.

‘You know what, leaving might actually be the best thing for you.’ Louis shakes his head at the peculiarity of this whole situation. ‘I’ll catch you on the other side, Curly.’

Harry looks like he hopes very much that, that doesn’t happen.

‘Okay...um,’ he gestures aimlessly at Louis’ body, searching for a name.

‘Louis.’ Louis bows his head, eyelashes abseiling down to meet the sharp curves of his cheekbones. ‘My name’s Louis.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? x


	2. Bend It Like Beckham

The second time Harry interrupts him, he’s bent over at the waist with his hands on the ground and his arse sticking out. His tight black shorts, shrunken by the laundry, have made a home for themselves in the valley between his cheeks.

‘What are you doing?!’

For someone with such a deep voice, Harry sure does do an amazing impression of a squeal.

It’s been two weeks since The Fingering Incident and Harry’s rarely been able to meet his eyes without a) blushing wildly or b) looking like he’d like to whisk Louis away. To an asylum. Because he’s a complete nutter. It’s a bit of an issue, really because Harry’s arranged with Zayn to stay here on the weekends. Apparently, he refuses to stay in his sister’s dorm and well, Zayn spends all forty-eight hours of the weekend locked inside Liam’s flat, anyway. Don’t get him wrong, Louis’ not complaining. He’d much rather spend his weekends trying to seduce Harry out of his shyness, than listening to Zayn play the instrumental versions of classic RnB songs.

‘I believe they call it yoga.’ Louis tells Harry, voice strangled. “And by god, it’s terrible.’

That pulls a delighted laugh from Harry’s lips, which is almost worth the excruciating stretch of Louis’ muscles. Almost, but not quite.

‘Oh Lou.’ Harry coos, and Louis’ not quite sure whether he’s wholly insulted or wholly in love. They’re on nickname level, apparently, and it fills Louis’ chest with the kind of need that won’t be satiated any time soon.

‘That’s not yoga.’ Harry laughs. ‘I mean, for one thing...your legs aren’t wide enough. You can’t be getting the burn you’re after.’

The nerve of the lad! As if Louis would ever willingly seek out any kind of ‘burn’. This has been a failed experiment into the benefits of yoga. That’s all. His last one-night stand had mentioned that his technique in bed could do with a bit of reinvention and Louis had driven himself crazy the last few months wondering if he was right. The guy was a complete jerk, mind you. He’d had the nerve to come inside Louis’ arse within two minutes of fucking him, then taken it upon himself to explain to Louis how _he_ could do better in the bedroom. Louis had taken it to heart anyway, as he tends to do. Now he finds himself torturing his perfectly fuckable body in an effort to become more flexible. And to make matters worse, his lovely, unattainable roommate doesn’t seem to be the least bit impressed. No, he’s too busy trying to tell Louis what he’s doing wrong.

‘Well Harold, enlighten me.’ Louis shakes his butt for emphasis, then watches, amused, as Harry’s upside-down figure walks straight into the purple ottoman. ‘C’mon, sensei. Come show me how it’s done.’

‘Lou.’ Harry says, voice saturated with warmth. ‘A sensei is a martial arts teacher.’ His palms come to rest hot and heavy, on the sides of Louis’ body. ‘Not a yoga instructor.’

‘Whatever.’ Louis stumbles backwards. Fortunately, his arse ends up pressed against Harry’s groin. ‘Just shut up and show me how to bend it like Beckham.’

‘Um, yeah. Okay.’ Louis’ mouth tips up gently at the slightly hysterical note to Harry’s voice. ‘I just need you to, um...’

Louis pushes his hands into the floor and elongates his body completely. A cobra poised to strike. The burn of it makes him feel like someone is applying very tiny, but very potent electric shocks to his spine. It’s worth it, however when he realises that Harry’s got a hard on from all the contact. Said hard on seems to be trying, none too subtly, to force its way inside Louis arse, clearly frustrated by the denim barrier between them. Unfortunately, the same can’t be said for the man himself.

‘Can you just, um...step forward?’ Harry mumbles.

Louis wants to scream. Is he not even going to mention that he’s hard for Louis? There’s a noticeable tremor in Harry’s voice when he speaks, though he works hard to act as if there isn’t. He squeezes Louis’ hips, firmly, then silently moves away. ‘I can’t see the line of your body from this close up.’

You can feel it, Louis’ tempted to quip. If only it were that easy. Harry’s dick might be on the same page as Louis, but Harry, himself isn’t. He treats Louis like he’s fine china and Louis might not mind the precious part of that equation, but it also makes him the kind of valuable you don’t get close enough to, to break.

‘Fine.’ Louis grumbles, shuffling forward. ‘How’s this?’

There’s a beat of silence in which Louis assumes Harry’s gaze comes to rest on the swell of his arse. Louis thinks that the invention of skinnies might just be one of humanity’s greatest accomplishments. Well, that and the invention of the dildo. The thought that Louis doesn’t need to a date a dick in order to ride one has been awfully comforting in the past.

‘Like I said, your…um, thighs aren’t wide enough apart.’

Louis can easily imagine spreading his thighs wide enough for the gorgeous boy behind him to fit between.

‘You should be stretching these muscles too.’ Harry says and places one of his warm, mammoth sized hands on the inside of Louis’ thigh.

Louis’ forced to take a deep breath in order to steady himself, trying fruitlessly to banish the mental image of Harry kissing his way up his thighs. There’s an almost uncontrollable compulsion to drag Harry’s hand up higher and fuck into the circle of his fist until he comes.

Then, Harry squeezes. The softest, gentlest of squeezes, as if it were a mere reflex. But it’s this, this tender touch, has Louis choking back a whimper, his knees gone properly weak. Not just in the romantic sense either. His knees have become about as useful as a pair of rusted through bolts. They buckle helplessly and Louis very nearly goes tumbling to the floor. Before he can, Harry swoops in to save him, performing an actual superhero manoeuvre and catching him with an arm around his waist. The other arm slides smoothly beneath the curve of his legs, which come to rest fully in Harry’s lap. Louis’ breath is lost to the thrill of the other boy’s touch. He can’t stop noticing the width of his arm muscles, or the way they tense in order to hold him in place.

‘You alright there?’ Harry grins, wolfishly, and it’s making Louis hot all over again. Forget butterflies. Louis’ belly is filled with streams of single-minded locusts, zipping around his stomach and making him dizzy. ‘Maybe we should end the lesson here.’ Harry suggests, eyes twinkling.

With me in your lap? Louis thinks, flustered. Yes please.

‘Um,’ is what comes out instead, because Louis’ brain has decided to exit the building, with no warning and no discernible signs of return. Blood rushes to Louis’ face, unbidden and his tongue feels very much stuck to the roof of his mouth. He sits up, refusing to sit anywhere but in the space between Harry’s legs. ‘Thanks for that. That was, um, wow. Your reflexes are like, kinda brilliant.  I mean...are you Superman?’ He laughs, the most awkward laugh of his life. ‘Cause I kinda feel like Lois Lane.’

Idiot.

Harry chuckles, flashing enough pearly white teeth to set Louis’ heart racing. Then his dimples twitch into place and it devastates Louis’ system all over again. They might be Louis’ favourite thing about Harry. Not including his seductively deep voice or his painfully adorable personality. Just this morning, Louis found out Harry has a toothbrush that plays Frozen songs and that he cuts his toast into cute, little rectangles and makes pictures with them on his plate. Quite simply, Louis wants to marry him.

‘Did you bump your head?’ Harry laughs, cupping the back of Louis’ head and pretending to feel around for lumps. ‘You think you’re Lois Lane, do you? Does that mean I get to call you...Louis Lane?’

He looks so proud of himself, Louis almost wants to let him off with a warning. Sufficiently endeared, he reaches out and grips Harry’s shoulders, squeezing softly. Harry’s face flickers with some kind of poorly contained emotion, even whilst he retains his cocky grin. To be honest, that, along with the sharp planes of his shoulders is enough to make Louis hard.

‘Harold, that’s a terrible joke.’ Louis mocks the other boy. ‘I’m embarrassed to know you.’

‘Too embarrassed to join me in a Supernatural marathon?’ Harry quirks an expectant eyebrow. Louis can barely comprehend what the boy has just said because his hands are still buried in the back of Louis’ hair, moving around. He doesn’t seem to realise he’s giving Louis the world’s most erotic head massage, either. Louis keeps squeezing his shoulders, trying to keep it together long enough to a) think of something smart and sassy to say and b) convince him that Louis is, in fact, very kissable.

‘I’ve been dying to watch the newest episode with you.’ Harry admits.

Louis swallows, feeling especially vulnerable. It has to mean something, right? Last week, when Louis had asked Harry to watch with him, he’d said that he wasn’t allowed to watch the show without his best friend, Niall.

‘Oh.’ Louis had said, trying to rearrange his features into something less disappointed. ‘Well that’s okay. I’ll just ask one of my other boys round for a cuddle.’ He was thinking of Ed because he was less likely to try and put a foot of space between them whenever Louis so much as shifted in the sheets.

Weirdly, Harry’s expression had grown tense and unhappy. His words had come out choppy and rough with something Louis couldn’t quite detect.

‘No, um, don’t. Don’t do that.’ Harry’s voice softened then, immediately becoming earnest. ‘Please. I’d love to watch with you. Really. Niall will get over it.’

‘And the cuddles?’ Louis’ voice had become a whisper. It seemed his nerves had made a startling appearance, dragging his stomach down around his knees.

Harry held his gaze for a long, quiet moment.

‘Perfect day for a cuddle, isn’t it?’ He’d glanced outside to the sheets of rain coating the window, turning the scene outside into a mess of indistinguishable colour. A lilting smile had lifted his cheeks. ‘And you’re bite sized, Louis William Tomlinson. Perfect for cuddling.’

Louis had put up the token resistance but had, admittedly, caved quickly to Harry’s request. They had sat with their legs intertwined in a messy tangle, Harry’s front pressed up against Louis’ back, and the laptop balanced precariously on Louis’ tummy. Harry had wound his arms around Louis’ waist, his chin digging into Louis’ shoulder. Every now and then he’d shift, accidentally dragging Louis’ long-sleeved shirt down past his collar bone. Then he’d resettle, the soft underside of his chin rubbing against Louis’ bare shoulder. It had felt so couple-y, so intimate and Harry’s face had been in such close proximity, Louis had to struggle not to kiss him. He wondered, later that night, what it would have been like to kiss Harry until the rain became like white noise inside their ears.

‘Niall didn’t threaten to sever all emotional ties?’ Louis wonders.

Last weekend had been something rather miraculous but Louis hadn’t really expected it to happen again.

‘He did.’ Cue Heartbreaker Grin. ‘But I ignored him. For you.’

For you, he says, as if that doesn’t make Louis want to push him up against a wall and snog him senseless. Louis could die a happy man listening to those words on repeat.

‘Well then.’ Louis runs his hands up and over Harry’s shoulders and neck, finishing at his jaw. All the while, he watches closely for even a hint of desire. Harry’s eyelids droop a little and his fingers slide deeper into Louis’ hair but there’s no sign of any immediate desire to ravish him. ‘I suppose we should go watch Destiel deny their sexual tension.’

Just like we are, he adds inside his head.

‘How many times do I have to tell you?’ Harry laughs. Wrapping his arms around Louis’ waist, he squeezes tight. ‘There is no such thing as Destiel.’

‘You have no idea what you’re talking about, Harold.’ Louis finds himself grinning back at him, just as dopey. ‘You wouldn’t know what sexual tension was if it came up and bit you in the arse.’

‘It has.’ Harry says, frowning, and his arms go slack around Louis. ‘It has, many times.’

Louis doesn’t know what to say to that. The look of despair on Harry’s face is so raw and so honest, it almost makes him feel as though he’s intruding. In lieu of actual comforting words, Louis spreads his thumbs out over the other boy’s hardened jaw, soothing it back into softness.

‘I’m sorry.’ He finally says, heart beating a little faster when Harry’s heavy gaze falls on him. He looks at Louis as though he’s capable of chasing the sorrow away. ‘For whatever happened to you. Because, whatever it is...whoever he or she was, they don’t deserve the miserable look on your face.’

Harry smiles, wistfully, pushing his thumbs into the softness of Louis’ waist.

‘Thanks Lou. I, um. I just wanted to say...I mean, I guess I’ve been thinking about it since the first weekend. Because you braided my hair and you let me paint your toenails a million different colours...’

Louis did allow that to happen because Harry isn’t the only one who doesn’t care if he’s living up to some arbitrary stereotype.

‘Yeah?’ Louis prompts, ducking his chin down to meet Harry’s fervent gaze. There’s no escaping the doubt poisoning Harry’s bottle green eyes. ‘You can tell me, Haz. Whatever it is. If it’s about how I ambushed you with all those questions...look, I know I probably came on a little strong.’ He bites at his lip, the muscles in his face tightening with barely supressed insecurity. ‘Making you watch all those movies and forcing you into dramatic duets...it probably wasn’t what you were expecting.’

‘It wasn’t.’ Harry agrees, moving his thumbs in small circles, sending currents of warmth throughout Louis’ ribcage and teasing his shirt up in the process. ‘I was expecting to have a long lunch with Gemma both days and then spend rest of the weekend hiding from the roommate I wasn’t sure I needed to get to know. That’s what I wanted to tell you, Lou. You’re ah, kinda amazing, you know?’ Harry blushes and begins talking to their feet. ‘You have this look about you.’

‘A look?’

‘Yeah.’ Harry’s mouth shifts into an awed smile, too bright and beautiful for Louis’ eyes to hold. It’s tempered by shyness, perhaps even unease, but there’s so much life in it, Louis can scarcely bring himself to look directly at it. ‘You have this look,’ He says again, ‘whenever you think something is wrong with me or when you think I’m retreating back into myself. It’s the same look you have when you talk about the hospital or how happy you are that Liam met Zayn. It’s like…it’s like it’s within your power to save the world from itself. And I think maybe you could, too...’ He bites at his bottom lip and looks up into Louis’ eyes, refusing to let him go. ‘I think there’s a whole legion of people who would follow you to the edge of the earth.’

And would you be one of them? Louis itches to ask.

‘I don’t know about that...’ Louis says, and it’s honest as all hell. Deep down, he knows he’s nothing but a quick fuck for boys who don’t ever plan on making him breakfast in the morning.

‘But I know.’ Harry assures him, and pulls him back up and into his lap, hugging him close. He noses around Louis’ ear, burrowing into his hair. ‘I might not know much about you, Louis Tomlinson, but I know this.’

‘Harry?’

‘Yeah?’

Louis presses his own nose to the back of Harry’s neck, snuffling quietly. The boy smells of washing powder and expensive, effeminate cologne.

‘I’ve been thinking too...’ He nibbles at Harry’s neck, snickering when the other boy gasps and digs his fingers into the small of Louis’ back. ‘I’ve been thinking it’s bloody fortunate that Liam and Zayn lock themselves away in their sex dungeon every damn weekend.’

Harry guffaws and presses Louis close to his chest.

‘Me too.’ He agrees. ‘You know, I think you might just be Zayn’s early Christmas present to me. It sucks, actually because now I’m going to have to get him something really special.’

And doesn’t that just say it all? Louis’ eyes well up with tears and he buries his entire face in Harry’s back.

‘You’re disgusting.’ He says, grinning wide enough to split his face in two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you enjoy? Let me know x


	3. Hell's Kitchen (Hurricane Louis)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brief mention of Robin's passing in this one (may his sweet soul rest in peace). I didn't plan on mentioning that or Jay's passing at all so Jay isn't yet an angel in this. Hopefully that doesn't offend anybody x

The third time it happens, Louis wonders if he should buy Harry a little attachable bell so he can hear him coming the next time. Granted, it might not be that much use in this instance. Louis is stood in his kitchen with a pair of floral pink oven mitts pressed to his ears, swearing, while he waits for the ear-splitting fire alarm to shut itself off.

When Harry walks in, with an overnight bag slung over his shoulder and a concerned frown, Louis loses his shit. He deposits the oven mitts on the bench beside him and shouts over the noise of the alarm, ‘I thought you weren’t coming this weekend?!’ He accuses. ‘Isn’t Gemma away?’

‘Um.’ Harry seems distracted by the sheer amount of smoke pouring out of the oven. ‘Lou, what on earth are you doing?’

‘This again.’ Louis rolls his eyes, planting his hands on his hips. ‘What does it look like? I’m fucking cooking!’

Of course, then the alarm shuts off completely and Louis’ voice booms out across the room, inappropriately loud. Harry seems to think so too, if his tears of mirth are anything to go by.

‘You—’ He falters, pressing his palms against his mouth, his eyes flashing with bright eyed humour. ‘Louis, you don’t know how to cook!’

‘I know that.’ Louis huffs, leaning heavily against the granite counter. Beside him lies the red pot that was once brand spanking new and is now broken clean in half. The remains of the casserole are spattered all around his walls. ‘I was trying to learn how.’

Emphasis on trying.

‘On your own?’ Harry’s eyes are glittering dangerously. ‘Unsupervised?’

‘Oh shut up.’ Louis pushes him in the chest, waving the thick grey smoke away from their faces. ‘You should be proud. You’ve been telling me for months that I need to stop ordering in.’

‘Yes but I figured you’d have Zayn around to help you. Or me. Lou, you’ve tasted my creations.’ He says this way too smugly. ‘I could’ve taught you!’

‘It isn’t even that bad.’ Louis tries to body block Harry from seeing the extent of the disaster. ‘You’re making a big deal out of nothing.’

Harry slides his hands up under Louis’ armpits and picks him up, moving him clear out of the way.

‘Louis.’ He snorts at the sight of the blackened debris. 'Did you put this pot in the oven? It says, "not safe for oven use."' He turns to face Louis, lips trembling with laughter. ‘It exploded, didn’t it?’

Louis holds his anger in for a good ten seconds.

‘Well it should have been written in big, black letters!’ He seethes. ‘Not in tiny white writing on the bottom of the pot! How was I supposed to know?!’

Harry loses it, bracing himself against the counter while he laughs freely, his head thrown back in abandon. What a bastard. After a moment of stubborn silence, Louis joins him.

‘Lou.’ Harry’s face is bright red from laughing. He looks so damn kissable with his quirky little curls sneaking out from behind a flannel headscarf, his long legs fitted into tight, dark jeans, and a thin white jumper on top. ‘You know you could have called and asked? I could have walked you through the whole thing.’

Louis looks down at his feet, abashed.

‘I know,’ he concedes, looking up at the other boy. ‘But I wanted to do this on my own. My mum’s always ragging on me, saying I need to date a man who can cook for me and I hate it. I don’t want to depend on that, you know?’

‘Yeah.’ Harry’s face is open and shining. He looks so happy stood in Louis’ kitchen, surveying the mess Louis’ made of it. ‘I get it.’

‘You never told me what you’re doing here.’ Louis moves to wrap his arms around the taller boy’s waist, burying his head in Harry’s chest. ‘Gemma’s away this weekend, isn’t she?’

‘Um... no.’ Harry’s voice is thin and uneven. He presses Louis closer to his chest. ‘She decided against.’

‘Oh.’ Louis smiles, curling his fingers in the soft material of Harry’s jumper. ‘I’m glad. I would have missed you.’

‘Me too.’ Harry pulls back, beaming. ‘So. Can I teach you now?’

Louis rolls his eyes.

‘If you must.’

 It turns out teaching someone to cook makes for more sexual tension than Louis had anticipated. Perhaps even more so than Harry trying (and failing) to teach him yoga.

‘Okay, so first of all, we need to get this place cleaned up. But um, maybe you should just sit here.’ He hoists Louis up onto the counter and drags his thumbs over the curves of his hips, lingering there longer than strictly necessary. ‘I’ll make sure the place sparkles.’

When Louis tries to grab his hands, Harry blushes and pulls away.

‘You don’t have to clean up for me.’ Louis’ skin is tingling in all the places where Harry touched him. ‘I can do it myself, you know.’

Harry’s already grabbed a wet cloth and begun wiping down the spatters of red sauce which cover the shiny black splashback.

‘I know, love.’ He winks and god, Louis wants to moan. How can this boy go from blushing virgin to cocky frat boy in one-minute flat? ‘But I’m trying to ensure nothing else gets totalled. Including you.’

Louis spends the rest of Harry’s allotted clean up time muttering to himself about the nerve of the boy.

‘Are you done talking to yourself?’ Harry says, grinning. He lifts Louis off the counter with the barest hint of flexing. ‘Cause I think we’re ready to start.’

Louis looks around at the kitchen, sparkling with cleanliness.

‘Styles, you’re a fucking legend.’

The other boy smiles widely and gently grabs his hand, drawing him over to a clean cutting board.

‘Let me show you how to prep,’ he says and proceeds to encircle Louis from behind, pressing up against him.

‘We don’t have any food out. Or a knife.’ Louis protests shakily. ‘We should um...’ he gulps, losing his train of thought because Harry is none too subtly inhaling his hair. ‘We should um, get those.’

‘Absolutely not.’ Harry chuckles. ‘Lou, I’m not letting you handle a knife. Not until I’m sure you know how to use one.’

Louis elbows him, trying to scramble away. ‘I’m not five, you dickhead.’

Harry leans into him, resting his hands on either side of the counter and blocking Louis’ exit route. Louis turns in the circle of his arms, half prepared for a standoff.

‘I know you’re not five.’ Harry says, managing to make that sound seductive. ‘But I’ve seen your knives. They’re about as sharp as the ones you’d find in a professional kitchen.’ He grabs Louis’ hands, pushing his thumbs into the warmth of Louis’ palms. ‘Your hands are very small, Lou and very soft. I imagine they cut easily.’

The deeply earnest way he’s looking at Louis makes it feel like he’s saying something else, but Louis’ too distracted by the sheen of moisture on his puffy, pink lips. Not to mention the broadness of his shoulders or the glacier white tone of his skin. There’s a few blemishes around the edges of his face but Louis doesn’t think he’s ever seen anyone so beautiful. It makes his heart ache.

‘Um.’ Louis doesn’t know how he became the bumbling idiot while Harry only seems to grow in confidence, every weekend. It might have something to do with how badly he wants Harry to like him. ‘Right. Okay.’

‘So.’ Harry drops his hands abruptly and spins Louis back around to face the cutting board. ‘I’m going to show you how to slice and dice.’

Louis spends the next five minutes imagining a million different scenarios, all of them centred around Harry’s cock driving into him from behind.

The teasing doesn’t end there because Harry insists on guiding him through everything. He stays close behind Louis the whole time, patting his hip (and very nearly, his arse) every time he does something right and squeezing his waist to warn him when he’s getting off track. A couple of times, he even leans in and pushes Louis’ fringe out of his eyes, flushing right down to his neck when a contented hum emanates from Louis’ throat.

Towards the end when the casserole is just starting to bubble, Harry spoons some of it out and holds it up to Louis’ lips.

‘Taste test?’

Louis ignores the offer and blows across the spoon, dragging his finger through the steaming liquid and sucking it right into his mouth. It burns the entirety of his finger, the outsides of his lips and most of his taste buds but Harry’s reaction is priceless. He stands stock still, the spoon hanging limp inside his hand, dripping sauce onto the ground.

‘Harry?’ Louis squeezes his hip, smirking openly. It’s nice to be in control again. ‘You okay, babe?’

‘Yeah.’ Harry wheezes, spinning around so fast he almost knocks Louis out. ‘But I think we should get this in the oven.’

Thirty minutes later, they sit down to dinner on the couch, balancing steaming bowls of food atop their laps. In between large mouthfuls of meat and sauce, they slurp shamelessly from their wine glasses, sharing private smiles. However, they find themselves sniffing constantly and Louis begins to wonder if maybe he’s not got this right.

‘Is it just me or is it spicy as fuck?’ He says, keeping half an eye on the telly.

They’ve hooked Louis’ laptop up to the screen and it’s playing the final episode of the latest Supernatural season. Louis doesn’t know what he’s going to do with his life once it finishes.

‘Nope, not just you.’ Come to think of it, Harry is very red in the face. ‘Did you put more chilli in when I went to the toilet?’

‘No.’ Louis furrows his eyebrows. ‘I mean, you said three tablespoons, right?’

‘Louis!’ Harry looks like he doesn’t know whether to shake him or laugh at him. ‘I said a quarter of a teaspoon!’

‘Oh.’ Louis looks down at his bowl of steaming chilli. ‘Fuck.’

‘Fuck is right.’ Harry laughs. ‘God, you’re such an idiot sometimes.’

Pouting stubbornly, Louis places his discarded dinner on the living room table and crosses his arms.

‘My patients don’t seem to think so.’ He contends. ‘I’ve never made a fatal error.’

‘Never?’ Harry seems surprised and maybe even a little impressed. ‘I’ve seen Grey’s Anatomy. I thought it happened all the time.’

‘Well first of all, those are doctors, not nurses.’ Louis pokes him in the middle. ‘And I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t have a show without all the fuck-ups. But, yeah…it’s pretty common. I mean, if you’ve been there for a couple of years, you’re bound to have played a part in at least one death. Human error is very much a real concern.’

Harry hums, watching him closely. ‘But not for you?’

‘Oh, it’s my biggest fear.’ Louis admits. ‘I have nightmares about killing a patient. I’m sure you have the same thing though. You must worry about screwing up a set or forgetting your own lyrics.’

Harry snorts at that, shaking his head and leaning in close enough to kiss Louis. He doesn’t, of course, though Louis wouldn’t dare stop him.

‘It’s not quite the same thing, Lou. I play pubs and clubs and whatever gig I can get. I do it for the love of the music and the good of my soul. It’s not really comparable to saving lives.’

‘Isn’t it?’ Louis tilts his head. ‘A good song can bring someone back from the brink.’ Harry’s eyes gentle at that, becoming soft. ‘And while I appreciate the sentiment, nurses are always thought of as caretakers, not heroes. Most people don’t consider us to play a role in saving people’s lives.’

‘I do.’ Harry’s eyes are shining with more than just the fizz of alcohol inside his veins. ‘My stepdad, Robin…he, um passed away, just last year.’

Louis watches the pain gather in Harry’s eyes; storm clouds rushing towards each other at the speed of light. Louis touches his forearm, squeezing gently, then watches in awe as the storm clouds disperse.

‘I’m sorry.’ He wants to stroke Harry’s hair away from his face, and so he does, guiding his errant curls back behind the head scarf. ‘I’m so sorry, Haz.’

‘It’s okay.’ Harry’s voice sounds rough and he presses a hand to his stomach. ‘It’s just…in here.’ He says, pressing down harder. ‘It hurts. Sometimes, it feels like it just sits there, you know? I think about my mum and how much she needed him. The thought of her life without him, it’s like an anvil, dragging me down. I think about how much she loved him and I feel like I can’t ever heal her sadness.’

‘I’ll bet.’ Louis pushes his thumbs into the spots just beyond Harry’s ears, watching his eyes flutter closed. ‘But I also bet you won’t ever stop trying.’

Harry nods, storm clouds replaced by tentative flashes of light.

‘The point I was making is that I know.’ He takes Louis’ hand, smiling. ‘I understand the value of nurses. I know that someone can save a life in an operating theater, but they can also save it with a simple dosage of morphine or a reassuring smile. You say music is healing, well Robin thought like that too. He thought we lived whole lives inside our heads that the world has no idea about. The difference that you make to people's inner lives might not to be visible to everyone but it is to me and it was to Robin.'

He doesn’t say any more than that and he doesn’t need to. Louis enfolds him in his arms, kissing his cheek. ‘I bet you sang to him.’ He says, rubbing Harry’s back. ‘I bet he loved your singing voice more than anyone else’s.’

When they break away, Harry’s smile is deeply etched, albeit with a hint of nostalgia around his eyes.

‘You should come hear me play sometime.’ He says, cheeks dipped in pink. ‘You might like it.’

‘I’d love it.’ Louis assures him. ‘I know I would.’

‘Well then.’ Harry gathers their bowls in his arms and makes moves to stand up. Louis presses a hand to his forearm, keeping him down.

‘Harry?’ He says, eyelashes fluttering low.

‘Yeah, Lou?’

‘We should go out for a drink after.’ His mouth is as dry as a desert, his stomach tied in knots. ‘After I come hear you sing, I mean.’

His heart is pounding a frantic beat inside his chest and the room is utterly silent, save for Cas’ robotic voice, pouring out from the speakers. Louis hazards a glance up and finds Harry gazing down at him with a deeply conflicted expression. Louis wants to bolt.

Don’t hurt me, he thinks to himself, wondering if that’s just what Harry’s about to do.

‘Yeah.’ Harry finally agrees, lifting up and away from Louis’ touch. ‘We should. You, me, Liam, Zayn and Niall. Sounds like a plan.’

He walks away and Louis falls back against the couch, eyes drifting shut. He’s never felt so humiliated and by someone he adores so much, too. How could Harry openly reject him like that? How could he smile, as if he didn’t just admit he doesn’t return Louis’ affections?

By the time Harry returns, Louis’ swallowed most of his disappointment and wiped the anger from his face, but he can’t quite seem to shake the sadness.

Upon glimpsing this, Harry reaches out to cup his shoulder, looking for all the world like nothing could be more important than making Louis happy.

‘Lou, you okay?’ He asks.

‘Fine.’ Louis’ throat feels dry and scratchy. He bites down on his tongue to resist the urge to cry.

‘I’m fine, Harry.’ He says, but he doesn’t believe it one bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? x


	4. In Sickness and In Health

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hurt/comfort. Cuteness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so short but so is this whole fic so I hope you enjoy it anyway! I am going to write the next chapter for my other WIP next but I'll be right back to this after. I was actually going to write a chapter for that instead of this but then someone asked for me to work on this one and I couldn't resist.

The fourth time is a little less dramatic than the others, although quite possibly the most embarrassing incident yet. When Harry walks in on him this time, Louis is sobbing into the couch cushion with two wads of tissues stuck up his nose. Not to mention, he’s got an arm wrapped tightly around a raggedy teddy

'Lou?' Harry looks absolutely horrified. He drops his bag which lands with a loud thud. 'What’s—are you watching pretty woman?'  
  
'Yes.' Louis snaps, sniffling quietly. Being sick makes him so emotional. 'Is that a problem?'  
  
'No...I just didn’t know you liked it, is all. You don’t seem like the rom com type?'  
  
Louis gives him a funny look.  
  
'My favourite movie is grease.' He quirks a challenging eyebrow. 'We’ve discussed this.'

'Yeah but—oh look, never mind.' He advances towards Louis, crouching down beside him. 'That’s not what I meant to ask. What I meant to ask is...what’s wrong? Are you sick? Do you need me to take you to the doctors?'

He reaches up to cup Louis’ cheek but Louis’ not having it. Not yet. He pushes Harry’s hand away gently.  
  
'Lou—'  
  
Louis covers his nose with one hand and blushes as he pulls the snotty tissues out, tucking them into the waistband of his joggers.  
  
'Oh!' Harry’s smile is painfully earnest. 'You don’t have to be embarrassed. I do that all the time when I’m sick!'  
  
'Yeah but that’s different.' Louis rolls his eyes. 'You’re like a male model. You could walk around in maternity clothes and still be sexy.'  
  
Louis starts humming the Pretty Woman theme and drumming his fingertips on Harry’s forearm.  
  
'You’re ridiculous.' Harry says, looking contradictorily pleased. 'You’re like...dirty hot, Lou. Even with a bunch of snotty tissues tucked into your waistband and your face blotchy with tears.'  
  
He smiles sadly, and cups Louis’ waist in his hand, squeezing for a good long minute. Louis wishes he could come up with something witty and charming to say back but he’s kind of stuck on the fact that the sexiest man alive just called him "dirty hot."  
  
'Um, anyway. What are you doing here? It’s the middle of the week.'  
  
'Lou.' Harry’s nose starts twitching amusedly. 'It’s Saturday morning. I should have come last night but I had a show back home. Gems is shitty at me because I missed dinner.'  
  
'Oh.' Louis chuckles, lapsing into a bone rattling cough. 'I guess I slept through the fever. Woke up two hours ago with a headache the size of Titanic.'  
  
Harry frowns at that and presses the backs of his fingers to Louis’ forehead.  
  
'You’re still burning up, love.' Louis just about dies from the pet name before he sees Harry’s blush of regret. 'Do you want a damp cloth? Have you had something to drink? What about food? I could make you some chicken noodle soup.'  
  
'Chicken noddle soup?' Louis perks up slightly. 'Really?'  
  
'Really.' He clasps the side of Louis’ neck, stroking his jaw. 'You should have called me when you got sick. I could have been here looking after you.'  
  
Louis curls his toes in his socks to keep from throwing himself at the lovely boy in front of him.  
  
'You’re not my nurse, Haz. It wasn’t a big deal. I would have called one of my boys if I needed to.'  
  
'Right.' His hand falls away, expression unexpectedly shuttered. 'I should have known.'  
  
'Um, are you okay?' Louis tries to rise up on his elbows but Harry pushes him back down.  
  
'Fine.'  He insists, pushing his sweat damp hair away from his face. 'But you’re not. You need to rest.'  
  
Louis begrudgingly relaxes back into the cushions.  
  
'You can watch the movie when you wake up.' Harry promises him.  
  
Louis sighs and waits until Harry leaves to give in to the mounting pressure behind his eyes.  
  
When he awakens, it’s to the aroma of chicken noodle soup filling his nose and the angry rumbling of his tummy, which, embarrassingly enough, sounds an awful lot like a starving bear.  
  
'Someone’s hungry.' Harry chuckles, pressing his thumb into the apple of Louis’ cheek. 'C’mon, babe. Sit up. I’ve got some soup, tea and a cloth to wipe you down with. I mean, like, you can wipe yourself down. I didn’t mean—'

'Harold.'  Louis cracks one eye open. 'Shut up.'  
  
The other boy blushes and pushes the tray into Louis’ waiting hands.  
  
'Nice bear.' He says, eyeing the little brown teddy seated in the crook of Louis’ arm. 'Does he have a name?'  
  
'Boo bear.' Louis mumbles. Barely suppressing a blush, he settles himself against the back of the couch. 'It’s what my mum used to call me. She gave him to me when I broke my arm for the first time. I was terrible the first time I went ice skating.' He admits, grinning sheepishly  
  
'And now you carry him around when you’re sick?' Harry says, 'That’s— '  
  
'Horrifying?' Louis scowls. 'I know.'  
  
'I was going to say, cute.' Harry chuckles. 'You’re very cute, boo.'  
  
Louis flicks a noodle at his fancy designer shirt.  
  
'When are you going to stop letting your mum buy your clothes for you?'  
  
The shirt is actually gorgeous. It’s a long sleeved white shirt with a black floral pattern and it fits Harry like a glove.

'I bought this!' He insists, looking between the shirt and Louis with an adorably affronted pout.  
  
Louis cackles delightedly.  
  
'Oh.' Harry’s cheeks redden. 'You were teasing me.'  
  
'Aren’t I always?' Louis winks provocatively. 'You’re too easy, love.'  
  
The effect is slightly ruined by the disgustingly wet sneeze which follows.  
  
'Ugh. I feel gross.'  
  
'Here.' Harry grips his chin in his long, pianist fingers. 'Let me.'  
  
He grabs the wet cloth and begins gently wiping away the sweat and general filth that must have accumulated in the last few days.  
  
'This okay?' He says after a minute of heavy silence. 'I can sto—'  
  
'No.' Louis’ breath hitches as the cloth passes down over his neck and onto his collar bones. 'Don’t stop.'  
  
Harry doesn’t say anything and when Louis begins unbuttoning his shirt, he merely drags the cloth down to Louis’ navel and starts gently cleaning him there. Louis lets out a wisp of a sigh when the cloth drifts higher, pressing against his nipple. Harry halts at the sound, and then presses back down again, scrubbing back and forth until Louis’ nipple is a hardened nub and Louis is a helpless wreck beneath him. Louis’ cock is beginning to stir inside his joggers and he can’t have that. He pushes Harry’s hand away.  
  
'Okay, I think I’m clean now.'  
  
'Right.' Harry backs away. 'Sorry.'  
  
Louis’ fingers curl around his denim clad knee.  
  
'Don’t be silly, H. You did me a favour.'  
  
If only I could let you finish it, he thinks to himself.  
  
'You’re welcome Boo.' Harry’s grinning now as he leans in close and buttons Louis’ shirt for him. 'I’ll be your nurse, okay? Don’t ask one of them round.'  
  
One of who? Louis wonders but the intense gravity in Harry’s expression makes him feel like he shouldn’t ask.

'Okay.' He agrees. 'But I’m going to need you to watch Pretty Woman with me.' He demands. '...and paint my nails again. Oh, oh, and give me a foot rub.'  
  
'I can do that.' Harry chuckles, sliding onto the couch. He looks over at Louis, glowing silently. It makes Louis feel blush-y and feverish all over again. 'I can be whatever you need, Lou.'  
  
Louis thinks he might be right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? x


	5. The Climax

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously: Harry seemed to be attracted to Louis (and very willing to look after him while he was sick) and yet at the same time, something seemed to be holding him back. 
> 
> This chapter: A metaphorical climax and a literal one. Another misunderstanding. Smut. Angst.

'I can’t even lie in bed without the worst pain shooting up my back.' Louis is nodding along to the conversation, his iPhone pressed between his cheek and the curve of his shoulder.  He pours himself his third gin and tonic for the night, dumping a few ice cubes in the glass. 'Yeah. Yeah.'

'Course.' He agrees, getting a second glass out for Harry who texted to confirm his imminent arrival. 'Whatever time works for you, mate. I’m easy.'  
  
The person on the other end of the line lowers their voice, slipping quite happily into innuendo.  
  
'That wasn’t what I meant and you know it—'  
  
The door to the flat creaks open and there Harry stands, in all his hipster wearing, rockstar playing glory. He looks particularly gorgeous tonight, making Louis feel as if he could just sink down to his knees right here.  
  
'—I just need you to get the kinks out.' Louis finishes, winking at Harry. 'It’s been far too long since I last saw you.'  
  
Harry seems agitated as he moves through the living room, his eyes never meeting Louis’. Louis tries to gesture to him, motioning toward the empty glass and half empty bottle of gin left on the table. But Harry just gives a minute shake of his head and slides past Louis’ body as if he were some kind of unpleasant bacteria, not to be trifled with.  
  
'Yeah, that sounds great.' Louis sighs and closes his eyes to the image of Harry’s turned back. He pushes his fingers into his frowning temple, trying to massage out the tension. 'You’ve got the best hands. Just don’t tell Zac I said so. He still thinks he’s the only one I see.'  
  
The person on the other end laughs heartily and promises not to divulge his deepest, darkest secrets. After a couple more niceties have been exchanged, Louis disconnects the call and places his phone face down on the bench behind him.  
  
When he looks up, Harry is leaning against the opposing kitchen bench, with his arms and legs crossed and a murderous glint to his eye. Frankly, it’s kind of terrifying.  
  
'Haz?' Louis cups his shoulder, inhaling sharply when the other boy flinches away as if he’s just been stung. 'Are you okay, babe?'  
  
'I dunno, babe.' Harry seems to mock him; his voice having taken on an unexpected sharpness. 'Does this Zac really not know you’re seeing someone else?'  
  
Louis chuckles, which is apparently the wrong move. That is, if Harry’s expression is anything to go by. But how could he keep a straight face when Harry demands to know such a thing? If Louis wants to see two masseuses at the same time, he damn well will. Harry, on the other hand, seems to think it’s despicable.

'I just think that’s really shit, Lou.' He looks proper upset now, his eyelashes beating angry rhythms against the rounded curves of his cheeks. 'I thought maybe things like this weren’t a game to you, that maybe, well maybe, you’d just never been loved the way that you deserve. But I’ve been through it Louis,' He says, impassioned, 'and what you’re doing—it isn’t right. You have to tell him. _Please.'_  
  
He’s red in the face from his rant and Louis can see that his hands are shaking down where they’re pressed to his sides.  
  
'Okay.' Louis blinks back at him, unnerved by the raw intensity in his eyes; the complete and utter desolation in his voice. 'If it means that much to you...okay. Just don’t freak out on me.'  
  
He cautiously wraps his hands around Harry’s biceps and pulls him into an embrace. Harry hunches over his body, enclosing him in a hug.  
  
'Lou.' He sighs into Louis’ hair, wrapping his fingers around a couple of strands and pulling tight enough to make Louis want to spread for him right here, right now. 'Thank you. God, thank you. It just needs to end.'  
  
'Sure.' Louis squeezes his hip and leans out of the embrace to check Harry’s expression. 'As long as you’re alright? I’ve never seen you so worked up before.'  
  
Harry’s skin glows pink as he steps around Louis and steals his drink, taking a long sip.  
  
'I don’t think I’ve ever been that worked up in front of you before.' He says and presses the glass to Louis’ lips.  
  
He holds it there as Louis wraps his mouth around the rim, sucking gently. When he pulls back, Harry’s eyes shift slowly away from his mouth.  
  
'I’m sorry.' Harry cups his cheek, pressing his thumb to the corner of Louis’ cheekbone. 'I shouldn’t have let my emotions get the best of me. It must have been strange for you to see me like that.'  
  
'Yes.' He slides his hands up Harry’s toned arms and wraps them around his broad shoulders. His shoulders actually manage to look even broader than usual in the leather jacket they’re encased in. 'And no. I’d like to see you like that more often.' He admits.  
  
Harry furrows his brow at him. 'I’m not sure I understand.'  
  
'You hold back all the time, don’t you? From the things you want.' He skates his hands up Harry’s neck, sweeping them over his sculpted jaw. 'From the things you like.' Harry shivers at his touch. 'It’s okay to be spontaneous. It’s okay to pursue.'

He’s making a big gamble here. Even with the influence of alcohol and with few inhibitions left, he’s still got a lot to lose.  
  
He squeezes Harry’s jaw and pushes himself up against Harry’s body, dragging his nose up the line of his throat.  
  
'You smell so fucking good.' He murmurs, just itching to sink his teeth in.  
  
It’s the most blatant he’s ever been and there’s a good chance Harry will run away screaming.  
  
'Lou.' Louis looks up and finds Harry’s eyes trained on him, hazy with confusion, dark with arousal. 'I can’t.'  
  
Louis’ heart sinks. Rejection twists his stomach while tears burn the corners of his eyes. He pushes Harry away, slumping over.  
  
'Of course.' Louis’ voice is crisp. His miserable laugh cuts the air. 'I should have known you wouldn’t risk it.'  
  
'Excuse me?' Harry’s nostrils flare and his cheekbones puff in and out with the ferocity of his breath.  
  
He’s wildly beautiful, even in anger, and perhaps especially so. His soft, unkempt hair frames his rigid jaw, drawing attention to the soft mint green of his eyes; the siren-like pink of his lips. His nails are painted black, his feet clad in a pair of chunky combat boots and Louis kind of wants to lick him all over. He’s never wanted anyone the way he wants this boy.  
  
'You either want me or you don’t.' Louis tells him. 'And I thought... I still think, maybe you don’t want me. Maybe this energy between us, this crazy chemistry that I’ve felt right from the start...maybe it’s just me. Maybe you don’t see a future with me, the way I see one with you.' He sighs. 'Just tell me if that’s the case.'  
  
'No.' Harry says, soft but determined. 'It’s not just you.'  
  
Louis breathes a sigh of immense relief, struggling to keep his dopey grin at bay. Harry feels the same. It’s like someone dumped him into the land of dreams come true. There’s no other explanation. The sexiest, kindest, most wonderful man on the planet is interested in Louis, of all people and it's an anomaly he can’t wait to explore. But first—  
  
'Well okay then.' He says, happiness leeching into his voice. 'There’s no need to resist any longer, now is there? There’s no need to play it safe.' He stretches his arms out to the sides, tilting his head down towards his shoulder with a coy smile. 'You can have me, Harry. All you have to do,' he says, unconsciously spreading his legs, 'is take me.'  
  
Harry looks sorely tempted, eyes flicking rapidly between the impressive spread of Louis’ thighs and the burst of heat developing under his cheeks.  
  
'I can’t, Lou.' He whines and Louis’ chest deflates, walls slamming back into place. 'It’s just not me.' He says and his eyes seem to plead with Louis, reflecting sorrow back. 'I’ve never done that to another man and I won’t now.'  
  
'You’ve never kissed another man?' Louis quirks a sceptical eyebrow.  
  
'What? No.' Harry shakes his head, staring at Louis like he’s gone absolutely mad. 'You know what I mean.'  
  
Actually, he has no idea.  
  
'All I know is that it sounds like a lot of excuses to me. And they all add up to the same thing.' Louis nods his head at Harry’s worried expression. 'You’re scared and you’re throwing us under the bus because of it.  Don’t be a coward, Harry. Because that’s not you, either. And just so you know, sometimes the risk is _worth_ it. But I guess if you don’t know think that I’m worth it,' He shrugs. 'You really don’t deserve to be with me anyway.'  
  
With that, he turns on his heel and struts out of the kitchen, taking his drink with him. He stops at the door to drain the rest of his drink from his glass, slamming it down beside the key bowl. He hooks his keys onto his pointer finger and grabs his black scarf from the back of the door, winding it around his neck.  
  
'I’m going out.' He announces, fighting the unmistakable tremble in his voice and the tears that start to blur his vision 'Don’t wait up.'  
  
He unlatches the door and pulls it open, waiting for the frigid air of the building to hit him square in the face. Before it can, a hand slams down beside his head, forcefully pushing the door closed.  
  
'I don’t think you should leave when you sound like that.'Harry says, stony-voiced. The warmth of his breath on the back of Louis’ neck makes him shudder. 'I don’t want you to be alone when you’re like this.'  
  
'So don’t make me feel like this.' Louis accuses, refusing to turn and meet Harry’s look of pity. 'Or better yet,' he laughs, dry and unamused, 'stop being a fucking coward and tell me that you don’t want me to go.'  
  
In response to that, Harry growls, suddenly and pushes Louis hard against the door, pressing up behind him.  
  
'I am not a coward.' He whispers, breathing hot and heavy.  'You don’t know what you’re talking about.'  
  
'I beg to differ.' Louis forces his hips back into the cradle of Harry’s groin, grinding against him shamelessly. 'You’re afraid, Harry. All the time. But I should be relieved. You wouldn’t know how to kiss me if I let you.'  
  
Louis really shouldn’t be as surprised as he is when Harry bucks up into his denim clad arse, grunting noisily. He’s like some kind of wildly pissed off, wildly turned on animal. Bashful Harry is nowhere in sight and Louis couldn’t be more satisfied. He throws his head back, moaning as loud as he dares and shoves his hips back into Harry’s, threading a hand through his curls.  
  
'Oh no you don’t.' Harry pushes him away from the hard cock trapped inside his jeans, leaving Louis starving with want. Louis spins around, ready to unleash but Harry beats him to it. 'Let me prove it you.' He says.  
  
'Prove what?' Louis snaps, heart racing, 'That you’re an expert at denying us both?'  
  
Harry smirks at that and tugs Louis into him by his scarf, unwinding it roughly before discarding it on the floor beside them. His hands settle on either side of Louis’ neck and they both arch forward at the same time, Harry latching his mouth onto the side of Louis’ jaw. Cue Louis losing his freaking mind.  
  
'Oh fuck.' He curses, head falling back against the door. 'What are you proving again?'  
  
Harry chuckles against his skin, sealing the bite with a soft press of his lips against Louis’ bruised jaw.  
  
'I’m not a coward.' He says through gritted teeth, and Louis’ not sure who he’s more determined to prove it to. His eyes are soft when they make it back up to Louis’ and yet no less ravenous. He hitches Louis’ thighs up around his waist, lifting him up and pressing him against the door. 'You don’t think I’ve thought about it, Lou?  You don’t think I’ve craved this every single day for the last six months? I thought about you looking exactly like this. Thought about you looking at me exactly like you are now. I’m about to prove you wrong, Lou. You’re sadly mistaken about me, love. I know exactly how to kiss you.'  
  
Louis doesn’t even have time to come up with a sassy remark before he’s being hoisted up even higher against the door, Harry’s hands squeezing his waist tight as he kisses Louis into total oblivion.  
  
It’s an angry tangle of tongue and teeth at first, clashing messily in the middle. Then Louis’ lips part with an indulgent sigh and Harry’s tongue pushes deep inside, learning every corner of his mouth for what feels like hours. It’s the closest thing to a religious experience Louis’ ever had and a kiss so dirty, it feels like sex.

Harry kisses him how Louis imagines he would fuck him; equal parts pleasure and pain. He forces their denim clad crotches together too many times to be comfortable but when he moves just right, angling his zipper away from Louis’ crotch, Louis sees stars. Harry keeps a protective hand on the back of his head throughout, squeezing gently every time their tongues collide, slowly reducing Louis to a purring puddle of pleasure.  
  
After a few minutes of this, sounds slowly start to filter back in to Louis’ consciousness but it's no help to his stamina when he’s about five seconds away from coming in his pants. It sounds like a symphony of sin in here with Harry moaning shamelessly into his mouth and the wet sounds of their French kiss driving him closer and closer to the edge. He feels it in Harry too; the desperate desire to come. Yet to the end, Harry remains touchingly gentle, pulling away only to press little kisses to Louis’ exposed chest and collarbones, his shoulder blade and the curve of hie neck. He moves with Louis, following the constant tossing of his head that occurs whenever the sensation proves too much. He doesn’t let up either, securing his mouth to any spot Louis finds too pleasurable to stand.  
  
'Harry,' he finally pants, breaking the magical madness of the moment. 'I’m gonna fucking come.'  
  
'Come then.' Harry’s voice is ragged. He presses Louis harder into the door, grinding into him with all the determination of a man possessed. 'Come all over yourself, baby.'  
  
Louis whines, winding his legs tighter and tighter around Harry’s waist, and sinking his teeth into his neck.  
  
'Fuck.' He moans as a huge wave of pleasure crests over him, warm come seeping into his most expensive pair of jeans. 'You owe me new jeans. And pants.' He accuses, breathless. 'Right after I ruin yours.'  
  
'Done.' Harry pants, trailing a line of kisses from Louis’ shoulder blade to the sensitive patch of skin behind his ear.  
  
'Let me down.' Louis says and Harry releases him straight away, watching him with eyes like a wolf on the hunt.  
  
'You can come anywhere but inside me.' Louis tells him and turns and drops his trousers. He throws a sultry look over his shoulder, shaking his bare arse. 'What are you waiting for, Styles?'  
  
Harry moans like the gates of heaven have just opened up for him and pushes forward roughly, pressing his denim clad erection between Louis’ dry cheeks. It hurts, is the thing. Between Harry holding him against the door with a bruising grip and thrusting up into Louis with his jeans still on, he’s in a lot of pain.  
  
Still, it takes mere moments for the pain to be replaced by toe tingling pleasure. Harry grunts directly into his ear, hands roving up the front of his shirt and gliding across the softest part of his stomach. Louis finds he’s hard again in no time and when Harry realises, he thrusts even harder, desperate for release.  
  
'Fuck, you’re perfect.' He shouts into Louis’ ear, pushing his dick right up into the top of Louis’ crack. The lack of contact has to be maddening but he makes no complaints. 'I can’t—you’re so hot. Fuck, baby.'  
  
Louis whines and reaches a hand back, pulling Harry’s head far enough down so that they can kiss. Their tongues tangle in the middle, pushing back and forth and quickly becoming just as aggressive as the movement of their hips. When Harry bites down on his bottom lip, sighing his name, Louis comes for the second time, his release splattering up his chest and all over the door.  
  
'Shit.' Harry’s hands clamp down on his sides, pulling him back onto his dick. 'I’m gonna—'  
  
'Come.' Louis’ voice is too blissed out to be sexy but he tries anyway. 'Shoot all over me.'  
  
Apparently that does it for Harry who pushes him so far up the door, he wonders if he’ll ever come back down. He feels Harry’s dick moving against him. shooting out the top of his jeans and painting Louis’ arse white with come.  
  
It’s a powerful feeling.  
  
Or at least, it would be, if Harry wasn’t pushing Louis away from him, his o face quickly transformed to horror.  
  
'I can’t. I’m sorry. God, I’m so sorry.' He says, tears smarting. 'We both deserve so much better.'  
  
Before Louis can get a word in or warn him that his fly’s undone, Harry is rushing out the door without so much as a kiss goodbye, leaving his duffle bag and guitar behind him. The smell of sex still lingers in the air and Louis’ heart is still racing from the most exciting orgasm of his life.

'Fuck.' He cries out to no one. 'What the fuck just happened?'  
  
He sits by the door for hours, waiting for Harry to come traipsing back in with a bashful apology for him and some baked goods for them both. He should probably be mad that after such amazing orgasms, Harry still managed to freak out, but it makes sense to him now. Harry isn’t an instinctive person. He’s too rational. He wants Louis but he doesn’t know how to go about it. He isn’t a coward though, Louis’ sure of that now. As he repeatedly runs his fingers over his swollen mouth, he knows he was wrong about Harry all round. Harry knew exactly how to kiss him. Harry knew exactly how to make him go pliant and then work him back up into a frenzy. But then Louis knew that already. He just had to push Harry into proving it.  
  
He’s hopeful, hopeful that Harry will come back and sweep him off his feet. Perhaps he’ll admit that he needs Louis to help him be a little bit more spontaneous. He knows Harry’s been hurt before, not that he’s ever been open about it. Louis’ willing to bet that the scars from whatever happened to him are what’s driving him away now. Louis understands. He knows just as well as Harry what it’s like to be used and abused by someone you care about. Louis’ never been able to make anyone stay for longer than a cheap orgasm.  
  
But Harry’s different, he tells himself, watching the door and waiting for Harry to come marching back in so he can relive the best kiss of his life.  
  
It isn’t until 3 am that Louis hears from him. He wakes with a jolt when he realises he’s fallen asleep on the couch and his phone is buzzing loudly beside him.  
  
_I’m so sorry, Louis. We never should have done what we did. I can’t do to somebody else what’s been done to me. Even if it means I never get to kiss you like that again. I’m sorry x  
_  
Louis glares at his phone for more than half an hour, waiting for it to make any more sense than half the shit Harry’s said tonight. It doesn’t make sense though and the fact that it doesn't can mean only one thing; Harry doesn't want to be with him.  
  
He glances around the room and finds Harry’s guitar and duffle bag missing, the only two possessions that had tied him to this flat. His phone buzzes again in his lap.  
  
_Came and got my stuff while you were asleep. Think it’s best we don’t see each other again. Take care of yourself, please. Harry x_  
  
Louis scoffs. Why would he sign it off like that? As if it’s the most noble goodbye he could think of and Louis is better off without him. God, it makes no sense. How could someone kiss him like that and not mean it? How could anybody regret what just happened between them? Louis thought it was magical. But clearly, as different as he seemed to begin with; Harry is just the same as every other guy Louis’ ever dealt with. He just wanted to get his rocks off.  
  
“I’ve done it again.” Louis’ shoulders start to shake as he buries his head in his hands. “I’ve fallen in love with somebody who doesn’t know how to fall in love with me back.”  
  
He spends the rest of the night cleaning out every last trace of Harry from the flat, slowing becoming just as determined to never see the other boy again.  
  
Before he slips into bed, his phone buzzes again. Only this time, it’s from Stan.  
  
_We still on for tomorrow? Full body massage at yours?  
_  
Louis sends back a thumbs up emoji, wondering if anyone but Harry is capable of working his kinks out now.  
  
_To be continued..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you thought and stay tuned for the last chapter which I'm super excited for x
> 
> P.s I am insanely happy that I got to include "purring puddle of pleasure" in a sentence. Alliteration is one one of my favourite things :')


	6. The Final Act

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously: Harry made some pretty big assumptions about Louis' personal life and when he attempted to confront Louis about it, misunderstandings ensued and he ended up grinding Louis into a door just to prove a point...although, he also really wanted to. Or did he? Because he ran out on Louis straight after that. 
> 
> This chapter: Harry finds out the truth, once and for all. Louis decides to take a big gamble, Harry does the same but only one pays off. They finally talk, they finally fuck and yes, you guessed it, they end up together.
> 
> Warning: Louis with OMC but it's off screen and you'll be fine, trust me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this turned out way longer than I intended the final chapter to be! Especially because I changed my idea for it at the last minute. But hey, I'm a sucker for a happy ending so actually, I'm not that surprised. 
> 
> Sorry it took me so long but hopefully it's worth it! To be painfully and inappropriately honest, I struggle sometimes to feel like I have a reason to get out of bed in the mornings and it's been particularly hard the last six months but the things that I write on here always give me such a boost, even if I just go back and read old comments. I just want to say thanks to anyone who takes the time to read my fics, even if it's just a purely selfish desire, I just appreciate so much that there are total strangers who like what I do. So thanks and hopefully this puts a smile on your dial!

The flat feels empty without Harry. Three weekends have gone by without a visit from him or any sign of him caving. It breaks Louis’ heart to think Harry got the one thing he wanted out of him and now he’s not interested anymore. The worst part is, after a week spent avoiding the subject, Zayn managed to get it out of him.   
  
‘Lou,’ he’d said, the other night when they were snuggled up in his bed, watching the last episode of supernatural. Zayn had yet to see it but it was the one Louis had watched with Harry weeks before, when things were still good with them and everything didn’t feel so tortured.   
  
They were buried under Zayn’s tie-dyed bed covers and Louis was snuggled in underneath Zayn’s arm, the electric blanket turned up high. Louis kept sniffling, his eyes glistening every time Cas inevitably displayed his love and affection for Dean.   
  
‘Please, please tell me what’s wrong,’ Zayn had begged. ‘I know it’s got something to do with Harry because he hasn’t come down for weeks. Gemma is worried about him and every time I mention your name on the phone, he changes the subject or starts talking a million miles an hour, which is saying something because that boy talks slower than anybody that I’ve ever met.’

 

It hurt to hear that Harry was doing just as bad as him because it meant there was no good reason for them to be apart. Even if Harry didn’t feel the same way, which he clearly didn’t, that didn’t mean they couldn’t have continued on as friends. It might have killed Louis in the end, especially if Harry started dating someone else, but he would have dealt with it if it meant having Harry in his life.  
  
‘Zayn, I don’t think I’m ready to talk about it yet...’ His voice sounded raw in a way he wished he could hide. ‘Why don’t you ask Harry?’  
  
Zayn gave him a withering look.  
  
‘Didn’t you hear what I just said? I’ve tried. He doesn’t want to talk about it. But he’s as mopey and depressed as you. One of you better start talking or neither of you are getting your Christmas presents this year.’  
  
Louis tilted his chin up, considering. ‘You got us Christmas presents?’  
  
‘Well...no,’ Zayn had said, ‘but Li did and I’m going in with him on it.’  
  
Louis snorted.

 

Zayn squeezed him tight, stroking his hair as he waited patiently for Louis to concede.  
  
‘Fine, I’ll tell you. But promise me you won’t roll your eyes or call us both idiots until the end.’  
  
‘I can promise no such thing.’  
  
Now, three days after telling him the truth, Louis is tiptoeing his way through his own flat, trying to avoid waking Zayn, because god forbid Zayn should do anything apart from look after him. It’s been constant, from morning to night. He’s followed Louis to the hospital several times and tried to force feed him sugary treats.

 

It’s gotten so bad that even Liam has been telling him to chill the fuck out and leave Louis alone. Not that Zayn listened, of course. He just fixed Louis another tea, swaddled him in a woollen blanket and got Grease out again, even though Louis knows for a fact that he hates it.   
  
The door creaks open and a triangle of light floods the dark flat. Liam is standing on the other side of the door, frowning at the lock.  
  
‘You guys really should lock your door,’ he says.  
  
‘Shh!’ Louis hisses, continuing to creep across the carpet towards the kitchen. ‘You’ll wake Z!’  
  
‘And?’ Liam gives him a funny look and marches over to the fridge, grabbing one of his protein shakes from inside the door. ‘Did you think I was here to see you?’   
  
Louis rolls his eyes and grabs a breakfast bar from the cupboard. He needs something to chow down on, on the way to work.

  
‘Do you want me to tell him you spoke to me like that at this oh so fragile time? Or, do you wanna sit down, shut up and wait until I leave to wake him up?’

 

Louis waits expectantly.

 

‘Fine,’ Liam agrees, ‘I won’t wake him up yet. But I need to talk to you about something.’  
  
‘Can it wait?’ Louis sighs as he rounds the counter to get to his bag. He chucks his scrubs in and a couple of bags of crisps, zipping it up and slinging it over his shoulder. ‘I need to get out of here. Zayn always wakes up when you get here. It’s like clockwork.’  
  
Liam grins at that, embarrassingly chuffed. They should just get married already.    
  
‘Well...’ He says, purposefully avoiding Louis’ eyes as he takes a loud, obnoxious slurp of his shake. ‘I want you to go on a date,’ he says, ‘with my friend…Levi.’  
  
‘What?’ Louis snaps back up from where he’d been bent down tying the shoelaces on his old, beat up Nike’s. His mum had gotten them for him last Christmas and didn’t seem to understand when he said it was an unforgivable betrayal of Adidas.   
  
‘C’mon Lou,’ Liam says. ‘I know you’re still hung up on Harry but maybe this’ll help? I mean, it’ll get Zayn off your back, for one thing. He’ll think you’re over it. And just imagine if you did end up liking him. Levi is great, Lou. I promise. And he really is looking for a serious relationship.’  
  
Louis advances on him, pointing a finger at his deceptively innocent features. Liam’s got a grey beanie pulled low over his douchey-hair and he’s wearing an actual winter jacket instead of his usual flannel-and-singlet combo. It’s misleading.  
  
‘You said that about Paolo, Tyson, Eric...’ Louis lists them off on his fingers.  
  
Liam has the decency to at least look guilty.  
  
‘Well…yes, I was wrong about them but I really think I might be right this time! He kept asking me how serious things were with Zayn and when I told him, he seemed really bummed about the fact that he didn’t have a serious boyfriend himself.’  
  
‘And he works at the gym with you?’ Louis says. ‘Is he a personal trainer?’  
  
‘Yes, he does, and no he isn’t. I learned my lesson after I set you up with Wesley, head trainer.’  
  
Louis groans at the memory. He had chosen a burger and fries combo on their date. _A moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips_ , that douche had said. _I like my hips_ , Louis had replied, _I’m happy with my body the way it is_. Wesley, a ‘gentleman’ according to Liam, had then proceeded to list all the reasons why he shouldn’t be happy with it, including his ‘ _sizeable arse_.’   
  
‘He just works at the front desk,’ Liam says, ‘part time, while he’s studying to be a doctor.’  
  
Louis smooths his hand across the counter, keeping it casual.  
  
‘A doctor, hmm?’  
  
‘Yes,’ Liam nods his head quickly, ‘you’d have so much in common! C’mon Lou. I know you want to. Even if it doesn’t work out, what have you got to lose?’

  
Louis resigns himself to his fate. He grabs his stuff and heads for the door.  
  
‘Fine,’ he agrees, just as he’s about to let himself out. ‘But if he says one bad word about me or my body, I am never letting you set me up again.’  
  
‘Deal!’ Liam calls out, just loud enough to wake Zayn.

 

Louis swings the door closed just in time and runs the whole way to his car. Liam should be able to keep Zayn occupied for the day. It saves Louis having to kick him off the ward.

 

*-*-*

  
Harry is miserable. No, that’s putting it lightly. Harry is sitting on a rickety, worn down stool in a mock-Irish pub with three pints of beer behind him and two more on the way. It’s 11 am on a Saturday, his fourth Saturday without Louis, and even the copious amounts of day-drinking can’t make him forget the fact that he finally got confirmation of what he already suspected. Louis is sleeping with someone else; someone who is not his boyfriend, Zac.  
  
Harry should never have kissed him or gotten off with him. It was a huge mistake. Huge. He knows that. But it doesn’t change the way the sensation lingers in his body, infecting his brain with all kinds of withdrawals. He can’t forget the desperate noises that had poured out of Louis’ supple mouth, or the way the muscles in his back had shifted beneath Harry’s fingers, tightening up right before he came.

 

‘Mate, I brought you here so you could drink, not so I could watch you stare out into the distance, looking all emo and strung out.’  
  
He shoots Niall a dirty look, rubbing his thumb across the greasy edge of the table. The lighting in here is just dark enough to hide the pub’s questionable sense of hygiene.  
  
‘I’m not strung out.’  
  
‘Could have fooled me,’ Niall says. ‘You look like shit. You know, Zayn said— ‘  
  
‘I don’t want to know what Zayn said,’ he snaps, gratefully accepting a fresh beer from the short, stout waitress who pushes it into his waiting hand.  
  
‘So I’ve heard. He told me you wouldn’t tell him what happened. And mate, I get it. You only know him because of Gemma and he’s better friends with Louis than you— ‘  
  
‘Exactly,’ Harry tells him, hoping that it’ll be it.

 

No such luck.

  
‘But I’m family,’ he continues, ‘and you don’t keep things from family.’  
  
Harry considers Niall’s unshaven face, his obvious bed hair and the ridiculous golf wear that he struts around in even when he’s not playing golf. How did this lost cause become a brother to him? Sounds about right though, doesn’t it? Most people have at least one family member who embarrasses them spectacularly on a regular basis. For Harry, Niall is that person.  
  
‘Surely Zayn got it out of Louis and then Zayn told you,’ Harry says.  
  
‘Well...’ Niall shifts his gaze. ‘Yes, but he only told me the bare minimum. And, I only got one side of the story. And well, what I heard… it makes you sound like kind of a douche.’  
  
Harry hadn’t been expecting that.  
  
‘What? How did I come off as the bad guy? Did Zayn not tell you about the other guys? Or maybe, maybe he doesn’t know...’  
  
‘What?’ Niall’s eyebrows tent. ‘What other guys? Zayn told me that you and Louis got off together and you freaked out. Then you walked out on him. He says Louis is in pieces.’  
  
Harry grips his glass tight.  There’s a headache brewing behind his eyes and a strange throbbing somewhere in the vicinity of his chest. Louis has to be okay. Harry can’t bear to think otherwise.  
  
‘That is not what happened.’ He tells Niall. ‘Or...it’s not everything that happened.’  
  
Niall quirks an eyebrow and leans forward on his rickety stool, paying no mind to the loud pub goers just behind. Harry can’t help but admire his ability to ignore them. They’ve been shouting obscenities at the old, box-like TV for an hour.

 

‘So, tell me the rest. Because right now, everyone, including Gemma thinks you got your rocks off with Louis and then abandoned him for no good reason.’  
  
‘I had a good reason,’ Harry insists. ‘I heard him talking on the phone to some guy,’ he spits, ‘and he was being real flirty with him. Like, real flirty. He told the guy that he had really good hands, for Christ’s sake! And then, then he asked whoever it was not to tell some person named “Zac,” because Zac thinks he’s the only person Louis sees.’  
  
‘Harry,’ Niall’s mouth shifts into a toothy grin, ‘Louis couldn’t possibly be cheating on his boyfriend, Zac because he doesn’t have a boyfriend named Zac.’  
  
‘What? Yes, he does.’ Harry is adamant. ‘Didn’t you listen to what I just told you? He didn’t want this guy to find out and the guy’s name was Zac.  
  
‘Zac is a masseuse!’ Niall laughs, slapping his hand down onto the table. ‘When I had that trouble with my back last year, Zayn told me he could help. He said he’d get the number of a really great masseuse from his roommate, Louis and guess what? The masseuse’s name was Zac.’  
  
Harry shakes his head, pinching at the bridge of his nose.  
  
‘Okay, okay but that doesn’t mean they’re one in the same. It could be a different Zac.’  
  
‘It does, though.’ Niall says. ‘Because Louis texted me himself after I spoke with Zayn. He told me that he was a nurse and that he suffered from persistent backaches and chronic pain. Then he told me his masseuse’s name was Zac and gave me his number.’  
  
‘Okay...’  
  
Niall rolls his eyes.  
  
‘Then he sent a follow up text and admitted that he’d started seeing someone else while Zac was on annual leave. Someone by the name of Stan. He asked me not to mention it to Zac, if I saw him, because Zac is a childhood friend.’ Niall says, giving him a meaningful look. ‘However, he thought it would be prudent to mention that Stan might be the better choice, because —wait for it—he has really good hands.’  
  
Harry swallows, convulsively, and takes a long, uninterrupted pull of his beer.   
  
‘That doesn’t make any sense.’ He says, finally, hands trembling. ‘It can’t be that. He always, always talks about his “boys”, and one time, he was even going to invite one of them round for a cuddle. The only reason he didn’t is because I stepped in and offered to cuddle with him instead.’  
  
It can’t be, he thinks, I can’t have been wrong about this.   
  
‘How very gallant of you,’ Niall chuckles. ‘But H, you’re being a fucking idiot, yeah? Haven’t you ever heard someone call their mates, their boys? Haven’t you ever called me up when you needed a cuddle? Look, I know you don’t want to talk about what happened with Ben or Xander, but can’t you see that Louis is nothing like them?’  
  
‘You haven’t even met him,’ Harry huffs. ‘You haven’t got the slightest clue what he’s like or what he’s capable of.’  
  
‘So tell me.’ Niall turns back to the bar and holds two fingers up. The middle-aged waitress flashes him a thumbs-up, fixing them both another drink. ‘What’s he like?’  
  
‘He’s like...’ Harry shakes his fringe out, shifting his drink around the table and tracing the watermarks it leaves behind. ‘He’s like…this little firecracker that’s always ready to go off. Then sometimes, he gets really pliant and cuddly and all the softness he usually hides from the rest of his world is on full display. He’s so fucking flirty and he knows just how good he looks in just a pair of tight joggers and a baggy hoodie. Yet, it’s part of this show he puts on. It’s like he doesn’t know that it’s everything he doesn’t choose to show me that attracts me the most. The bare slip of his shoulder in one of his oversized jumpers, the crinkles by his eyes when I walk in the door every Friday night, and the way he covers his mouth when he laughs at something he shouldn’t be laughing at…those are the things I love the most about him.’  
  
He looks up at Niall and finds him watching with rapt attention.

  
‘He just wants to make me happy, Ni...I know that much. He let me paint his nails and braid his hair and teach him all these things he didn’t really want to learn. Yet, when I was teaching him, I almost felt like he enjoyed it, the same way we both enjoyed just sitting together on the couch, cuddling in together but doing separate stuff. He’d be filling out case notes and I’d be writing a song. It was just kind of miraculous how we could sit there for hours, not talking and yet somehow, I still felt so close to him. I just…I like the way he does everything,” he admits, “from the way he ties his shoelaces like a second grader, to the way he always puts too much toothpaste on the toothbrush and ends up with this ridiculously foamy mouth.’

 

He grins at the fond memory and Niall’s expression is entirely too smug.  
  
‘You love him.’ He says, slamming his hand down onto the table. ‘You’re in love with him.’  
  
‘No!’ Harry denies hotly, blood rushing to his cheeks. ‘That’s ridiculous. It’s only been a few months. And even if I did, what difference would it make? I was in love with Ben and Xander, too before they...you know. You can be wrong about a person. I, of all people, know you can be wrong about a person.’  
  
‘But what if you’re not?’ Niall says. ‘What if Louis is exactly the kind of guy you’ve been waiting for? I know it’s scary. I know he could hurt you just as fucking bad as your shitty ex-boyfriends but from what I’ve heard this whole time, Louis doesn’t sound anything like them. He’s unselfish, for one, and I’m not even talking about his job. He wants to make you happy, which is more than I can say for those two jerks. They always, always put their own needs first. And let’s face it, you never looked this miserable over either of them, even though you’d been with them both for years. You wanna know why? It’s because they didn’t deserve you, H and you knew it. Louis does. That’s why you’re so cut up over losing him. Deep down, you know you’re making a mistake.’  
  
What if Niall’s right? What if Louis really is the one for him? But what if he gets hurts again? What if he’s blindsided by another broken heart?  
  
‘What if—'  
  
‘Mate, I shouldn’t have to spoon-feed you the truth so that you can see what’s right in front of you. But,” Niall sighs, “if it’s the only way to get you to reconsider, then I’m not about to let this ship go down without a fight. So, hear me out. I know for a fact that Louis does not have a boyfriend or any kind of man in his life, for that matter.’  
  
‘You do?’  Harry bites at the edge of his thumb, tugging the skin between his teeth. ‘How?’  
  
‘I know, because two weeks before Zayn asked you to come stay, he called me up to complain about Louis. He told me that, and I quote, “hell or high water, he’s going to get back out there and meet somebody, Niall or else I’m going to find him somebody myself.” I don’t think he intended to find you,’ Niall shrugs, ‘but all’s well that ends well, right?’  
  
Harry can’t stop smoothing his hands over the same jeans he’d worn the night he and Louis got off together. It hits him, in that moment, that he didn’t do anything wrong. They didn’t do anything wrong. Louis is one hundred percent single and Harry’s heart is beating a million miles per hour just thinking about what that means.

 

His fingers ache with the latent desire to hold Louis; to crush him against his body and never let him go again. His lips tingle with the memory of their first kiss, so perfect and passionate, so satisfying after holding back from each other so long. It was like coming up for air after years spent breathing only water. Now, he’s reliving it all again and yet, seeing it through different eyes. All he wants is to see Louis again. All he wants is to make it up to him.   
  
‘Oh my god, Niall, I have to go!’ he shouts, almost knocking his glass clear off the table in his hurry to get off the stool.  
  
‘Wait a minute.’ Niall grabs his wrist, hauling him back. ‘You can’t drive like this. Plus, you stink of beer and your hair reeks. You need a few hours to sober up, shower and come up with a better game plan than barging in on the guy and telling him you mistakenly thought he was a cheater.’  
  
‘Right.’ Harry sinks back down onto the stool, pouting a little. ‘Well, what do you think I should do?’   
  
‘I think you should finish your beer...’ Niall looks down. ‘Because there’s more.’  


‘More? What more could there possibly be?’  
  
‘Well, see, Louis obviously thinks you don’t feel the same about him…’ Harry bristles at that and Niall rushes to continue, ‘because that’s how it looks. And Zayn and Liam think the same thing. And since you wouldn’t tell me anything, well I couldn’t say one way or the other. So...’  
  
‘So?’ Harry demands, eyebrows twitching.    
  
‘So, Liam set him up on a date. With a doctor. They’re having dinner tonight. H, I’m so sorry.’  
  
The back of Harry’s mouth has run dry and all he can think about is missed opportunities. Why didn’t he give Louis a chance to explain? Why did he mistakenly assume the worst?

 

‘Why on earth didn’t you lead with that?’  
  
Niall’s eyes go wide with disbelief.  
  
‘Because I thought you weren’t interested in the guy! It didn’t make sense for you to walk out on him if you were. But Harry, whatever you’re planning now, _don’t_. You can’t ruin this date. You can’t just go in there, guns blazing.’   
  
‘Why not?’ Harry growls. ‘He’s a doctor. A doctor who works at a gym,’ he runs his hands up over his face and into his hair. ‘I mean, what was Liam thinking?’   
  
‘I’m pretty sure he was thinking he’d like to see Louis happy and not lonely and pining over you.’ Harry’s heart thumps heavily against his ribs. ‘But if it makes you feel any better, this doctor guy isn’t actually a personal trainer at the gym. He just works reception.’  
  
‘It really doesn’t,’ Harry says, aiming a sour look at Niall’s ridiculous hat. ‘Shit. What am I supposed to do, just sit back and watch as some other guy sweeps him off his feet? It’s not fair. I was meant to do the sweeping! Me!’  
  
‘I know, mate,’ Niall claps him on the back, ‘and I trust you to do exactly that.’  
  
‘What? You just said—'  
  
‘I said you can’t ruin his date,’ Niall smirks, ‘I didn’t say anything about paying him a visit afterwards.’  
  
‘Oh.’  A tentative grin forms. ‘So, I should go over there after and confess how I feel? Should I get him flowers? Chocolates? Oh, oh, maybe I could go to the market and get him some of those hard candies he likes so much. He always raves about those.’  
  
‘Sounds great, Romeo.’  Niall laughs. ‘Dinner is at seven, so maybe head over there about 9?’  
  
‘What if...’ He swallows noisily. ‘Niall, what if Louis asks the guy up?’  
  
Niall pales.   
  
‘Well then I guess we should come up with a plan B...’

 

                                                                          *-*-*  
  
‘You can do this,’ Louis whispers, spraying his fringe with hairspray one last time. ‘It’s just a date. Just a date. You haven’t been on one in months but that’s fine. It’ll all work out.’  
  
The pep talk isn’t doing much good. Not when he found a huge, noticeable mustard stain on the shirt he planned to wear. He was already running late when he found it, having spent so long in the shower, just questioning whether this was a good idea.    
  
The fact remains that even though Harry hurt him worse than any guy he’s ever been into, Louis can’t stop thinking about him. He can’t stop thinking this date is going to be a disaster, simply because it’s not with Harry. 

 

It’s ridiculous and he knows it. He stuffs his wallet into the back of his jeans, grabs his keys and heads for the door.

 

‘It’ll be fine,’ he says as he locks up behind himself. ‘You don’t need Harry to have the perfect date.’  
  
                                                                        *-*-*  
  
On his way home from the pub, Harry buys a bouquet for Louis. He spends far too long picking it out, wanting desperately to please Louis. Eventually, he decides on a custom bouquet made up of red roses, Louis’ favourite flower and white calla lilies, Harry’s own. Then he swings by the market to pick up a tin of Louis’ favourite hard candies and a locally produced bottle of wine which fits Louis’ less than expensive tastes.   
  
Then he heads back to Niall’s new place, where he’s been staying instead of Louis’. Niall is gone when Harry gets there but he’s left a note pinned to the fridge, wishing Harry luck and reminding him, Rupaul style, not to fuck it up.  
  
Harry takes to the shower, dousing himself in scented body wash and flossing his teeth as the water washes away the acrid stench of stale beer. When he gets out, he slips into some sweats and does his hair the way Gemma dictates to him via Skype.  
  
‘What are you going to wear?’ she asks. ‘Please tell me you’re not going floral.’  
  
‘What’s wrong with floral shirts?’ he grumbles, pulling on his nicest black jeans.   
  
‘Nothing. Except that you wear them all the time and Louis has probably seen them all at this point.’  
  
‘Gems, I’ve only known him a few months,’ he says, sliding a black belt into his belt loops and fastening it around his waist. ‘I highly doubt he’s seen every last one.’  
  
‘Still! Don’t you want to impress him? Don’t you want to floor him with your undeniable good looks and endless charm?’ She waggles her eyebrows. ‘Don’t you want to show him that you’re so much fitter than his date?’  
  
‘Obviously.’ Harry rolls his eyes and starts rifling through the collection of shirts that he’d brought with him, looking for something that screams, “ _I’m not a doctor, but maybe you should fall in love with my stupid arse anyway_.”  
  
‘Well then,’ she gestures at the right side of his collection, devoid of any patterns or floral prints. ‘Show him how you command a room full of people when you’re up on stage. Remind him why he let you grind him into a door in the first place.’  
  
‘I didn’t tell you that!’ Harry screeches, wide-eyed and accusing.  
  
‘No, but Zayn did,’ she peels with laughter, rolling over on her queen-sized bed and flashing him an upside-down grin. She looks seventeen again in this moment, her newly red hair finally having grown to a considerable length after she cut it post-breakup. ‘I can’t say I wanted to know that my little brother likes to do it up against the front door, but I figure I can mention this teensy little fact to mum the next time you both decide to rag on me for having a messy flat.’  
  
‘But it’s disgusting!’ Harry says. ‘You’re just as bad as— ‘

 

He cuts himself off. His instinctive desire to talk about Louis and relate everything back to him always seems to win out but now the words fall flat. What if he loses Louis forever? What if he never gets to rag on him for his bad habits again?  
  
‘Louis?’ Gemma finishes.  
  
‘Yeah.’ His smile is wistful.  ‘But I guess I’m in love with him anyway, aren’t I?’  
  
Gemma rolls back onto her front, beaming at him like he’s finally done something worth being proud of.   
  
‘I guess you are, little brother.’  
  
Harry disconnects the call soon after that and finally chooses his shirt. It’s long sleeved and pristine white with black buttons, a black collar and matching black cufflinks. He pairs it with the leather jacket he’d been wearing the last time they saw each other and finishes his look off with a touch of eyeliner and a long dark pendant that hangs down around his chest.  
  
He sweeps the flowers and the candies off Niall’s kitchen bench and takes them to the door where he swipes his keys from the key bowl. He gives the flowers one last sniff, assures himself for the millionth time that Louis will like them and tucks the wine bottle under his arm. Plan A is a go.   
  
                                                                           *-*-*  
  
When he gets to Louis’, the sun has well and truly set, and the sky is shimmering with a plethora of stars that wouldn’t usually be visible on a wintry night like this. Harry’s breath appears in front of him like a plume of smoke as he lets himself into Louis’ building, juggling his various gifts.  
  
Once inside, he climbs the stairs quickly, starting to get jittery the closer he gets to seeing Louis. He jogs up to the landing, huffing and puffing a little, but unwilling to slow down.   
  
When he reaches Louis’ door, he knocks a few times. Getting no response from within, he decides Louis must not be home yet. He glances at his watch and finds it’s almost a quarter to ten. The fact that Louis’ not home yet does not bode well for him but Harry’s not willing to give up yet. He gave up on Louis last time and it was a huge mistake. It’s one he can’t afford to make again.  
  
He slides his key out of his pocket and twists it in the lock. Once in, he dumps his gifts on the coffee table in the living room and prepares to wait. It’s then that he hears noises…  
  
‘Fuck, that’s amazing. How did you learn to do that?’ Louis groans, the sound emanating from behind his closed bedroom door. ‘My god, you’re good at this.’  
  
‘Just relax.’ A male voice tells him. ‘I know how to make you feel good.’  
  
Harry’s breath catches in his throat and he’s prepared to bolt at any moment. Right when he decides to leave while he still can, he hears Louis release a whimper and it stops him in his tracks. Don’t be a coward, he tells himself. It’s time for Plan B.   
  
He marches over to Louis’ bedroom door and twists the handle, throwing the door open. There’s two gasps of surprise and Harry quickly squeezes his eyes closed.  
  
‘Louis, don’t do this,’ he begs. ‘Please don’t sleep with him. I don’t want you to sleep with anyone but me.’  
  
There’s a loaded silence and Harry fills it with incessant, nervous chatter.   
  
‘I mean…sorry.’ He shakes his head, feeling his cheeks flood with pink. He can’t help but be reminded of the first time they met and how very painful it was for them both. ‘That sounded kinda horrible. I know I don’t own you, or anything, and I…I don’t think of you as a sexual object, obviously. I just meant that before this goes any further, I think we need to talk and I’m not leaving until we do.’  
  
‘Harry.’ Louis sounds completely flabbergasted. ‘You can open your eyes.’  
  
‘What? No!’ Harry shouts. ‘I mean, I don’t want to invade your privacy and I…I don’t want to see you naked.’ 

 

Fuck, he thinks to himself, as he realises how that sounded. No wonder Louis wants to sleep with someone else.

  
‘You don’t want to see me naked, got it.’   
  
‘No, no, Lou! I meant I don’t want to see you naked like _this_ ,’ he rushes to say. ‘When I see you naked…’ Louis’ date coughs exaggeratedly. It sounds strangely like he’s trying to give Harry a hint. ‘I mean, _if_ I get to see you naked, I want it to be special. I want you to feel special. Lou, you can’t have sex with him…you just can’t.’  
  
‘Harry, why on earth would I be having sex with my masseuse?’

 

Harry’s eyes flash open. To his utter shock, he finds that Louis is stretched out over a massage table with a dark-haired masseuse leaning over him, his hands poised atop the backs of Louis’ shoulders.   
  
‘Hi, you must be Harry,’ he dries his hands off on the purple towel covering Louis’ bottom half and offers one to Harry. ‘I’m Stan, Louis’ masseuse.’  
  
Harry slowly shakes his hand, his eyes fixed on a blushing Louis. He looks like he’s about two seconds from bolting, as Harry had been moments earlier.  
  
‘Harry,’ Louis finally says, his voice huffy. ‘What on earth were you thinking, barging in on us like that?’  
  
‘Um...’ Harry tugs at the bottom of his leather jacket, suddenly feeling stupid for dressing up. Louis’ probably about to kick him out. ‘I thought you had a date tonight?’   
  
‘I’m just gonna go....’ Stan interrupts, awkwardly patting Louis on the shoulder and flashing Harry an encouraging smile. ‘I’ll get the table tomorrow.’  
  
‘Right. Thanks, mate.’

 

Louis squeezes Stan’s hand as he passes. He waits until Stan shuts the door behind him, winking at them both, to respond.  
  
‘I did have a date,’ He says, flipping over on the table and somehow managing not to flash Harry in the process. He grabs the towel hanging over him and motions for Harry to turn around. Harry spins around so fast, he almost loses his balance and falls face first onto the floor. ‘It just didn’t work out.’  
  
‘Oh,’ Harry says, exhaling half the tension he’s been carrying around since the moment Niall told him. ‘I’m sorry.’

 

He’s distracted then by the sound of Louis slipping his shirt back on. The material makes a soft swishing noise as it glides over his silky skin. It dawns on Harry, then that he’s actually jealous of a garment. It’s a new low. He hears Louis stepping back into his underwear and the sound of them snapping into place is as erotic as the sound of him slowly doing the zipper on his jeans, drawing it out, as if he knows just what Harry’s thinking.  
  
When Harry’s sure Louis is done getting dressed, he turns around, expecting loose sweats or maybe a dressing gown. Instead, he finds himself absolutely floored. His breath gets caught in his throat and his heart just about falls out of his chest when he sees how beautiful Louis looks in what must have been his date outfit.

 

He’s wearing skin tight blue jeans and a cropped hoodie that’s the same colour as the fluffy pink socks he wears on his feet. The hoodie is tight and short, showing off a strip of his waist, the slightly rounded belly Harry loves so much, and the soft hips he’s imagined seeking his teeth into since the moment he first saw Louis.

 

Harry would never have expected him to wear something like this. As far as shirts go, Louis usually sticks to black or red and while he has a certain fondness for tight clothing, he doesn’t usually show this much skin. He’s dressed in Harry’s favourite colour and showing off his gorgeous body and Harry is just about tripping over his tongue trying to find the words to express how he feels about that.

  
‘You look nice,’ Louis says, out of nowhere, stealing the words right from Harry’s mouth, his eyes zeroing in on Harry’s body.  
  
The heat in his gaze gives Harry hope but the way he quickly turns and starts folding up the towels and packing away essential oils tells him this isn’t going to be easy. There’s still a chance Louis doesn’t want him back.   
  
‘You look more than nice,’ Harry chokes out. ‘I mean, really—wow. Your date must have gotten weak in the knees when he saw you.’

 

Harry knows he is. He can’t stop looking at Louis’ stomach, glistening with essential oils. Harry wants to eat all kinds of things off that midriff. But more than that, he just wants Louis to know how beautiful he looks with all of this sensuality on display.

 

 ‘You didn’t say though, um…’ He fiddles with the edge of his jacket.  ‘How come your date didn’t work out?’  
  
Louis sighs, loudly and drops the bag of essentials oils on the floor beside his bedside table. He turns and pushes past Harry on his way out to the kitchen. Harry instinctively turns and follows, keeping just one step behind the whole way until Louis finally turns around and confronts him.  
  
‘Harry, what the fuck?’ He pushes Harry in the chest, his eyes shimmering with barely supressed tears. ‘I mean really, what the fuck do you think you’re doing barging into my room and asking me not to have sex with someone else? So what if I had brought my date back here? So what if had I slept with him? What’s it to you? You left, Harry, even after I gave you the perfect chance to finally go after what you wanted. But, I guess you didn’t want me after all, so why are you here? Just tell me.’  
  
Louis looks down at his bare feet, his shoulders hunching in. He braces his back against the edge of the kitchen counter while his fingers grip the underside. His bottom lip trembles, pulsing in and out with the weight of his breath, revealing his inner distress.  
  
Harry’s heart is anchored somewhere down around Louis’ fragile, rickety ankles and his small, defenceless feet. Harry wants to kiss them. He wants to bend down and kiss Louis’ time-worn arches and neglected heels. He wants to kiss all along those little ankle bones that shift every time Louis toes along the grout lines in the floor, his bottom lip still pushing in and out, as if threatening to release a downpour.

 

Harry wants to give new life to these exhausted feet that have walked so many miles and stood solid for so many people. They’ve tended to family and friends and patients alike, without anyone to tend to _them_. Harry wants to kiss the hurt better. He wants to show Louis that he bears witness to all of the suffering and all of the sacrifice. Even if no one else has ever looked down and seen how tortured Louis’ feet are, Harry has. Harry will.

 

When he looks up, Louis is still looking down, his soft, pink mouth exhaling heavy breaths onto his sharp collarbones. He looks for all the world like a boy who doesn’t want to be touched or moved or loved by anyone or anything ever again. But Harry knows better. Harry can see the plea he doesn’t want to make hiding in the barely noticeable tremble of his fingers. Harry wants to give this boy everything he should have had the first time they touched. He wants to say all the words Louis deserved to hear the moment they were done.  
  
‘I want to date you,’ he says. His voice is as quiet as the spell Louis’ eyes are casting over him as they slowly meet his own. ‘I don’t just want to be here on the weekends, having the time of my life with you, only to disappear back home, come Sunday. I want to be here on the weekdays, waking you up with a proper breakfast and making you dinner every night when you get home, no matter the strange hour. I want to teach you to cook for yourself and con you into doing yoga with me every morning.’ Louis makes a face at that, but it just makes Harry smile. ‘I want to hear about your day, every day. I want as much as I can have with you, Lou and I’m sorry I ever made the mistake of letting you go. It was stupid, but you have to understand, it wasn’t about you.’  
  
Louis’ eyes are wet. His eyelashes clump together as he shakes his head, the bones in his cheeks shifting wildly.   
  
‘How could it possibly be about anyone else? It’s always about me.’ He chuckles, darkly. ‘I’ve never even had a good date, let alone a proper boyfriend.’  
  
‘What? How is that possible?’   
  
Louis chuckles again, reaching up to swipe away some escaping tears.   
  
‘I’ve had a good shag,’ he says, ‘or a good after dinner blow job. But that’s it. No one is ever there to keep me company in the morning or ask me how my day is when I get home,’ he says, with a caustic look at Harry. ‘I’m not the kind of guy people date, not seriously, and you made that pretty clear last week. So, you wanna know why my date didn’t work out? It was because he was interested in Liam, not me. Liam thought Levi was jealous of his serious relationship with Zayn. Turns out he was just jealous of Zayn himself.’ He shakes his head, tears leaking out the sides of his closed eyelids. ‘So there you go, I’m a joke again. What else is new? I don’t want your sympathy Harry, and I don’t need it. You may have broken my heart, but you also reminded me that I deserve more than a quick fuck and a text goodbye.’ Harry flinches. ‘I deserve the whole god damn world.’  
  
‘I know. I know you do,’ he says, with total certainty. ‘Louis, I’m so sorry. And before you start,’ he holds up a hand, ‘I don’t pity you. How could I pity you? You’re one of the most intelligent people I know, compassionate enough to devote your life to helping others, completely hilarious and to top it all off, you’re absolutely gorgeous. There is not a sane man alive who wouldn’t fancy you.’  
  
Louis’ cheeks glow pink and he stumbles, losing his footing, and almost taking out himself against the counter. Harry grabs his wrist to steady him.  
  
‘I don’t feel sorry for you, love. But I am sorry you’ve been out with such bastards. Especially because it’s the bastards of this world who made me doubt that I could be with you in the first place.’  
  
Louis doesn’t tear his wrist away, like Harry had expected. Instead, he relaxes back against the counter, his eyebrows arched in question.   
  
‘What do you mean?’  
  
‘My exes cheated on me.’ Harry tells him, figuring there’s no point beating around the bush now. They’ve wasted enough time. ‘Two of them. One after the other. But I never saw it coming, either time. I was blindsided, even when I should have known better.’ He could almost laugh at the irony. ‘I never thought someone could appear to love me so much and yet betray me with a total stranger. It broke my fucking heart and completely undermined any faith I had in other people. So, when my last relationship ended, I felt like the only way I could ever be with someone again is if I was a hundred percent sure they wouldn’t hurt me.’ He swallows. ‘Because I just didn’t think I could live through it if it happened again.’  
  
‘But, that’s impossible,’ Louis says, and it seems unconscious when he turns his hand over and grips Harry’s hand, silently intertwining their fingers. ‘You can’t possibly have hoped to meet someone that way. People can’t tell you whether they’ll hurt you straight up. Most of them don’t know that they will.’  


‘I know that.” Harry says.  ‘I was just scared, okay? And…when I met you, I felt the deepest attraction I’ve ever felt to anybody in my life—'  
  
Louis’ breath stutters.  
  
‘—so I did everything I could to shut those feelings down. I didn’t want to get hurt again.’

 

Louis frowns at that, squeezing Harry’s fingers.  


‘I’m so sorry for the hurt you’ve been through,’ he says, ‘but I can’t help wondering why you didn’t just talk to me. And I don’t understand…’ His brow line deepens, ‘what did I ever do to make you think I would hurt you?’  
  
‘You kept talking about your “boys”’ Harry confesses with a frown, ‘and inviting them round for a cuddle. And then I heard you on your phone to your masseuse and it sounded like you were flirting with him. I just freaked. I thought when you told him not to mention anything to Zac that you were talking about an affair.’  
  
Louis snorts at that but then seems to pick up on the intensity of Harry’s expression.  
  
‘What? That’s crazy! How could you just assume?’ He demands, shaking his head and looking like he’s about to tell Harry to get the hell out. ‘Wait…you thought I was having an affair, I called you a coward and then we—oh.’ Clarity fills his expression, “So you ran out on me because you thought I had a boyfriend? That’s what you meant in your text, isn’t it? You didn’t want to make someone suffer the way you had?’

  
‘Yes,’ Harry confirms, ‘and I didn’t realise how much of an idiot I’d been until today when Niall cleared everything up. Suddenly I could see how wrong I’d been and how presumptuous. I knew you weren’t like my exes but there was a part of me, a stupid part of me,’ he allows, ‘who thought that maybe I just couldn’t tell the difference anymore. Those were the worst years of my life, Lou and I knew somehow it would hurt even worse to lose you. I shouldn’t have kissed you that day,’ he admits, ‘when I thought you had a boyfriend, but I just couldn’t hold back anymore. I wanted you so much, I felt like I was losing my mind.’  
  
‘Me too,’ Louis says. ‘I tried every trick in the book to get you to fuck me.” He blushes at the admission. ‘I mean… I wanted more than that but my past history with guys told me a good fuck was probably all I was capable of getting.’  
  
Harry cups his face, squeezing it softly, and looks deep into the eyes of the most precious boy in the world.  
  
‘Wrong again, Tomlinson,’ he says and gently presses his lips to Louis’, hoping for the best. He sighs gratefully when Louis sinks into it, winding his arms around Harry’s neck. They kiss softly for a few moments until Harry pulls away, cupping Louis’ cheek with one hand while he uses the other one to dry the last of his tears.  
  
‘I’m pretty sure I’m love with you,’ he says, tracing the hard planes of Louis’ face and running his thumb across the soft flesh of his bottom lip. ‘If that wasn’t already clear.’  
  
Louis presses their lips together again, taking charge of the kiss as he sucks at Harry’s tongue, winding his fingers into Harry’s hair and pulling him down hard against his mouth.  
  
‘I feel the same,’ he says, pressing short kisses to Harry’s mouth. “Haz, I can’t promise you that I’ll never hurt you, I just can’t do that, but I do promise that I’ll never want to. I honestly hope that you’re it for me, but I need you to trust me too.’ He flashes a playful grin, ‘I can’t have you barging in on me and a patient, demanding to know if we’re doing it in the O.R.’  
  
Harry snorts at that and butts his forehead against Louis’.  
  
‘I promise not to do that.’ He grins, nipping at Louis’ smiling mouth and squeezing the supple waist that turns him on so much. ‘But I can’t make any promises about you and the masseuse. Stan is kinda fit.’

  
Louis giggles, burying his face in Harry’s shoulder.  
  
‘I have a surprise for you.’ Harry says, eyes bright. ‘It’s in the living room. If you wait there, I’ll be in with the rest of it in a moment.’  
  
Louis gives him a sceptical, slightly worried look which is probably to be expected after Harry’s less than stellar performance tonight. Harry shoos him from the kitchen anyway and starts quietly fixing them some dessert. He finds some half-eaten ice cream and an unopened bag of frozen raspberries in the freezer. Then he hunts down some chocolate sauce to go with it. _  
_  
Five minutes later, he carries one big bowl of dessert in one hand and the stems of two wine glasses in the other. His face stretches into a wide, adoring smile as he finds Louis, sitting on the couch facing away from Harry, holding the flowers to his chest. He watches as Louis buries his nose in them over and over again, inhaling deeply. The hard candies sit open on the table in front of him.   
  
‘Do you like the flowers?’ Harry asks, watching Louis jump and flush as he turns to face the intrusion. ‘I asked them to mix our favourites together.’  
  
‘They’re perfect,’ Louis says. Harry places their glasses down on the table beside them and pulls the dessert bowl into his own lap. ‘No one’s ever got me flowers before.’  
  
‘Bastards,’ Harry reiterates, pulling Louis into him by the hand and kissing the taste of raspberry candies right off his lips.  
  
‘Mm,’ Louis pulls away, smiling. ‘What was that for?’  
  
‘For being so damn adorable.’  
  
Louis chuckles at that and pushes him, quite ineffectually, in the arm.   
  
‘Oh shut up. You’re embarrassing yourself.’  
  
‘Is it too embarrassing if I feed you this dessert? It’s ice cream and raspberries with chocolate sauce.’ He holds up the spoon, dripping with chocolate, and tilts his head down at the bowl. ‘I was thinking we could share. I thought, um, if you wanted…this could be like your first good date. And if I, you know, if I manage not to fuck it up. I want it to be perfect for you, Lou.’

 

The wealth of emotion in Louis’ eyes is a lot like the stars that Harry hadn’t expected to be visible on such a cold, wintry night; it’s just a privilege for Harry to bear witness.

 

 ‘I think it already is.’ Louis smiles up at him from beneath his lashes. ‘This is already the best date I’ve ever been on.’  
  
He accepts the proffered spoon, sealing his lips around the cool metal and sucking its contents into his mouth. Drops of ice cream leak out his little, pink mouth and inch towards his chin.  
  
‘You have a bit of, um...’

   
Louis rubs at the opposite corner of his mouth, smirking openly. He knows exactly what he’s doing, the little vixen.  
  
‘Would you get it for me?’  
  
Harry leans in but instead of kissing him softly as Louis might have expected, he sucks Louis’ entire bottom lip into his mouth, dragging it back and forth between his teeth. Louis whines needily and climbs into Harry’s lap, tugging desperately at the collar of his leather jacket.  
  
‘Forget dessert.’ His hot gaze shifts to the wine. ‘…and that. We can have them after.’  
  
‘After what?’ Harry smirks, rubbing his hands across Louis’ back. 

 

‘After you take me to bed,’ Louis whispers and tugs on Harry’s earlobe with his teeth.

 

Harry swallows.  
  
‘That I can do.’  
  
He sweeps Louis up into his arms, bridal style, and carries him to his and Zayn’s room.  
  
‘Hang on, why do we have to do it in your room?’  
  
Harry arches an eyebrow.  
  
‘Really?’ He hoists Louis up higher. ‘Is it really imperative that we do it in your room?’  
  
‘I suppose not.’ Louis shrugs but he still looks miffed. ‘It’s just, I kinda figured we’d do it in mine. Besides, it’s also Zayn’s room and that’s kinda weird, don’t you think?’  
  
Harry sighs, exasperated and changes direction, storming down the hallway to Louis’ room. Louis presses his open mouth against Harry’s jaw, effectively silencing any complaints he may have voiced.  
  
‘My hero.’  
  
Harry deposits him gently on the bed, Louis’ arms still hooked around his neck. 

 

                                                                          *

  
‘You can let go now,’ Harry says, his eyes gently sweeping Louis’ face.  
  
Louis can’t move a muscle. He’s in such a state of total shock that this is happening at all. He’s wanted this for months but none of his previous expectations can compare to how it’s actually going down. The flowers, the candies, the wine. All of it was so thoughtful, so _Harry_. Louis just knows this time is going to be different. This time, he isn’t nervous to give himself over to another man. He’s not afraid of waking up to find Harry missing, not now that they’re both on the same page.  
  
‘Right,’ he chuckles and releases Harry from his grip, ‘show me some of your moves, Styles.’  
  
Harry starts a slow crawl over his body which is almost as sexy as the way he runs his hands up Louis’ denim clad thighs and noses at his throat, inhaling the scent of his cologne.  
  
‘You look so beautiful tonight. I just…I wanted you to know that,’ he says, sweeping his hands up Louis’ sides. ‘You always look good, I mean god help me, really…’ Louis’ cheeks burn with the heat of his praise, ‘…but this look, this top,’ he tugs at the bottom of Louis’ hoodie, ‘I could eat you alive.’  
  
‘Me?’ Louis’ voice is a breathy chuckle. ‘Have you seen yourself in this shirt?’  
  
He runs his hands up Harry’s chest and grips his jaw, pulling him down into a dirty kiss. Their tongues circle each other as Harry shucks off his jacket, Louis moaning wantonly as those broad shoulders become accessible to his wandering hands.   
  
‘My shoulders?’ Harry pants, pressing him down into the mattress. ‘Really?’  
  
‘Really.’ Louis breathes, a little bit hypnotised by the back and forth of Harry’s necklace.   
  
Harry showers his face in kisses, trailing them down to Louis’ chest where he opens his mouth against Louis’ collarbones, biting at them gently.  
  
‘My collarbones, really?’  
  
‘Really.’ Harry confirms, and Louis finally manages to tear his expensive shirt free.  
  
It’s a free for all for a while, their hands desperately tearing at each other’s clothes. They share both laughter and pleasure, savouring the fact that they’re properly discovering each other’s bodies for the first time.  
  
‘You have a tattoo that says munchkin on your hip?’ Harry says with a grin, mouthing over that exact spot.  
  
‘Lost a bet,’ Louis admits. ‘That was their price.’  
  
‘Oh.’ Harry’s face twitches with laughter. ‘I thought it was because—'  
  
‘Don’t you dare!’  
  
Harry spills his laughter against the curve of Louis’ neck before kissing him into quiet.   
  
Minutes later as Louis peels Harry’s pants away, ridding them of the final layer between them both, he finds that Harry’s packing even more than he originally thought.  
  
‘Jesus.’ He wraps a hand around Harry’s half hard cock, tugging a few times just to get him worked up. ‘How have you kept this hidden?’  
  
‘I dunno.’ He grips Louis’ biceps, rubbing his thumbs back and forth over the raised muscles. Then he uses them to flip their positions, Louis landing on top. His hands gravitate to Louis’ back, reaching down to grip at his arse. ‘How have you hidden this?’  
  
Moments later, his wet forefinger circles Louis’ hole and Louis presses down against him, suctioning his mouth to Harry’s and inhaling deeply as his finger slides inside.   
  
‘Is this okay?’ His finger pushes in deep, twisting inside Louis.  
  
‘More,’ Louis begs. ‘Please.’  
  
Harry pushes in with two fingers this time, scissoring them carefully. At the same time, he whispers soothing words into Louis’ ear, exclaiming aloud about how tight Louis feels on his fingers and how many times he’s thought about doing exactly this. 

 

‘That cropped hoodie,’ he gasps against Louis’ mouth, ‘I think you should vow to wear only cropped hoodies from this day forward.’

 

It’s enough, in more ways than one. Louis is ready.   
  
‘Fuck me now,’ he says as Harry’s fingers slam into his prostate, sending shivers throughout his entire body, ‘please.’  
  
Harry flips them again so that Louis is lying on his back with Harry looming over him, making him feel safe. Louis draws his legs up around Harry’s waist, circling his body. Harry’s hands run up his thighs to grip the junctures between his legs and stomach.   
  
‘You sure? I know your experiences with other guys— ‘  
  
‘Are nothing like having sex with you.’ Louis tenderly cups Harry’s cheek, pressing his thumb to a spot just south of his ear. ‘I trust you.’  
  
Harry kisses his wrist.  
  
‘I trust you too.’  
  
He slides on the condom that Louis passes him and jerks his cock for a few moments, thrusting into his closed fist. Louis leans up on his forearms to watch, unconsciously licking his lips.  
  
‘I want you in my mouth.’  
  
Harry fucks hard into his fist, a clicking sound emanating from his palm.  
  
‘Rain check?’ He says. ‘I want to be inside you, Lou.’  
  
Louis pulls him down into his lips, exhaling hotly into his mouth.  
  
‘Rain check,’ he agrees, breath hitching now that the moment has finally arrived.    
  
Harry hitches one thigh higher up on his waist and settles a hand at the base of his cock. Then he gently pushes in, leaning down to give Louis a long, languid kiss. Louis keens into his mouth.  
  
‘Okay, baby?’  
  
Louis’ heart throbs painfully in his chest and he realises anew how lucky he is to be trusted with the heart of this brilliant boy who’s been hurt so many times before. His hands wind their way around Harry’s curls and he tugs at them, squeezing Harry between his thighs.   
  
‘Perfect.’  
  
Harry slides all the way in, cradling Louis’ face between his hands as he begins to thrust, quickly gathering momentum.   
  
‘You feel amazing.’ He says and noses along Louis’ cheek, nipping at the spot behind his ear.   
  
Louis urges him on, pressing his feet into Harry’s arse and digging in. Harry drives into him harder, shoving him up the bed with every thrust. When Louis continues to beg for more, Harry slows his pace and grinds in instead, keeping his cock pressed against Louis’ prostate for minutes at a time.  
  
‘I’ve never—' Louis gasps, ‘I’ve never had it this good.’  
  
Harry presses Louis to him and resumes his former pace, the mattress squeaking beneath them as Harry’s hips slap against his bare arse, the carnal sound driving them both wild.  
  
‘So fucking good,’ Louis croons, clawing at Harry’s back.   
  
Harry kisses him hotly, their tongues engaged in a violent tug-of-war as their bodies continue to slam into each other, igniting their toe-tingling pleasure.

 

The desperate need to come arrives far too quickly and dismantles every last one of Louis’ defences. He’s burying his face in Harry’s neck as bright colours flash behind his eyelids and his toes start to curl around Harry’s lower back. His hands fist at Harry’s curls and there’s a huge pool of warmth stirring inside his tummy, growing ever hotter by the second.   
  
‘I’m gonna—'  
  
‘Do it,’ Harry tells him, kissing his hair and gripping his hips tightly as he continues to slam into him. ‘Let go.’  
  
‘You too,’ Louis begs, intertwining their fingers and pulling Harry down into a kiss. ‘Let go with me.’  
  
Harry’s hand finds his cock and Louis clenches around him. They’re flying at breakneck speed now, groans pouring out of their mouths as they approach the precipice together. Louis arrives first, with Harry pressing him down into the mattress as he explodes all over himself, painting both their stomachs white.

 

Harry’s breath hitches and he hoists Louis’ thighs higher around his waist, pounding into him harder than before. Suddenly, a wave of pleasure crests over his tightly clenched face and he shouts Louis’ name as he comes, pulsing so hard inside the condom that Louis can feel it all along his walls. Harry’s fingers squeeze his as he rides out the last of his orgasm, thrusting deep inside Louis, the two of them exhaling hot breaths against each other’s mouths.  
  
‘That was amazing,’ Harry sighs as he pulls out, depositing the condom in the bin beside them.

 

He pulls Louis into his side, curling an arm around him.  
  
‘The best I’ve ever had,’ Louis admits and his eyes brim with tears he won’t shed for a past that no longer feels relevant.   
  
Hours later, they shower together, swapping soapy massages and soft, lingering kisses. Without fail, their hands always end up wandering as they’re both distracted by each other’s naked, soaped up bodies. Louis gets Harry off with his mouth first, his knees pressed into the hard floor of the shower while Harry cries out from above, one hand pressed to the steamy shower door, the other clenched tightly in Louis’ hair.

 

Then, Harry makes him stand with his hands pressed to the glass while he kneels behind him, kissing up the backs of Louis’ thighs and sucking the sensitive flesh into his mouth. He bites at the backs of Louis’ hips and then fucks Louis back open with his tongue, rimming him so spectacularly that Louis comes completely untouched.   


They stumble out of the bathroom afterwards, still naked and tingly and a bit too wet to be falling straight back into the sheets. They do so anyway, Louis laughing into Harry’s neck as Harry kisses the ticklish spot just beneath his chin. He doesn’t stop there though, sliding down Louis’ body to blow raspberries against his naked stomach.  
  
‘This tummy is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.’  
  
Louis rolls his eyes, hiding a smile, and pulls Harry up by his biceps, pulling Harry’s arms around himself.  
  
‘Can we sleep now?’ he hums, snuggling into the manufactured embrace. ‘I’m tired.’  
  
‘Course,’ Harry says, belying his words as he continues to kiss him, repeatedly pressing his lips to Louis’ mouth, the curve of his neck, his smiling cheeks and his closed eyelids. ‘night Lou.’  
  
Louis falls asleep not long after that, curled up inside the arms of his weekend roommate, turned lover.  


                                                                        *-*-*  
  
  
When Louis opens his eyes, a very naked Harry is sliding into bed with a huge array of food. He holds a tray that has two steaming hot plates on it, a glass of juice and a mug of fragrant tea. Louis can smell bacon, sausage and fresh fruit. An adoring sigh escapes his lips.   
  
Harry doesn’t say a word as he places the tray down and cradles Louis’ face in his hands, kissing him as slowly and as thoroughly as the moment demands.

 

‘Morning,’ he says, his voice still rough from sleep.

 

‘Morning,’ Louis sighs while Harry kisses him again, his fingers working their way into Louis’ hair and tilting his head back just to kiss him deeper. ‘I see you, um—’ Harry interrupts him, kissing him again and sucking at Louis’ mouth with single-minded intention. ‘I see that you— Harry!’ He pulls away, laughing, ‘can you stop kissing me for a second?’

 

‘Sorry,’ Harry chuckles against his lips, rubbing circles into the tender skin just beneath Louis’ ears, ‘but it’s almost impossible to stop.’

 

Louis shakes his head at him, a smile brimming over. ‘I see you made me breakfast?’  
  
‘Let me guess,’ Harry grabs the tray, balancing it on his lap as he settles against the headboard and pulls Louis under his arm. ‘No one has ever done that for you either?’  
  
‘No.’ Louis eyes all the indulgent food, from the crispy bacon to the huge pile of scrambled eggs. ‘Never. Thank you,’ he says, catching Harry’s eye, ‘…for this, and last night, for everything really.’  
  
Harry gazes at him, expression soft.  
  
‘It’s just breakfast, Lou. You don’t have to thank me.’  
  
Louis palms his cheek, kissing him square on the mouth.  
  
‘It’s more than breakfast. You take care of me. You care about me.’  
  
‘I adore you,’ Harry corrects. ‘I have from the beginning.’  
  
‘And I—’ Louis chuckles. “Well, to be honest, at first I just thought you’d be amazing in bed.’  
  
Harry snorts. ‘And now?’  
  
‘Now,’ Louis presses their mouths together, ‘Now, I _know_ you’re amazing in bed.’  
  
Harry squeezes his biceps and prepares to roll Louis under him but Louis waggles his finger.  
  
‘Uh, uh, ah.’ He eyes the tray sitting in Harry’s lap. ‘Breakfast first.’  
  
‘Breakfast first,’ Harry reluctantly agrees, his eyes pinned to Louis’ exposed nipples, stiffening up in the cool, morning air.   
  
They swap loaded glances as they eat, their elbows knocking and thighs rubbing together beneath the sheets. Eventually, Louis decides he needs confirmation of one last thing.  
  
‘So, last night and um, this morning. I mean...are we...’ he trails off, playing with the edge of the duvet.  
  
Harry grabs his hands, squeezing his fingers until Louis looks back up.   
  
‘I want to do this with you.’ He says. ‘I want to date you. Permanently.’  
  
‘O-okay. I mean...yes.’ Louis stutters. ‘Let’s do that.’  
  
Harry laughs softly. ‘Kiss me?’  
  
Louis obliges happily, pressing kisses all the way up Harry’s throat before finally landing at his lips.  
  
‘I thought you’d never ask.’

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? I'd love love love to hear from anyone and everyone x


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